


The More Things Change

by Sushi4Brains



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Cock & Ball Torture, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fanart, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Knifeplay, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Riding Crops, S&M, Sexual Tension, Situational Humiliation, Slow Build, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 76,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1405483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sushi4Brains/pseuds/Sushi4Brains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>REVISED:<br/>A student learns at the knee of his teacher; some lessons are taught once and the student moves on.  Other lessons must be learned again and again, over the knee of one's teacher.  Yamato is a slow learner; Kakashi, duty bound to instruct, always takes his duties seriously.<br/>A surprise guest  makes for an unusual threesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The More Things Change

Before we begin, please note: that this story follows an extremely fractured timeline and that means math is involved. 

Kakashi: promoted to rank of jounin at age 13, assigned to ANBU under the Fourth Hokage’s command at age 14.  First met Tenzou when he was 16 years of age  They worked as a team for three years, making him 19 years of age.  Twelve years passed since they were a team, making him 31 years of age for the purposes of this story.

Kinoe/Tenzou/Yamato:  Age 13 when assigned to Kakashi’s ANBU team, they worked together for three years (age 16).  Twelve years have passed since their time in ANBU, making him 28 years of age for the purposes of this story.

Tsunade is Hokage, and Team 7 is off on puppy walking, weed pulling and river cleaning duty until Kakashi returns from this mission.

* * *

 

Charred flesh . . . that’s a smell Yamato never got used to, yet the cloying scent of death kept muscling its way inside his porcelain mask like it belonged there, forcing him to accept its presence as it coated his nostrils and deposited an acrid film on his tongue.  Squeezing his eyes shut, he drew in a shallow breath and tried not to retch; it just wouldn’t do to puke his guts out in front of the Hokage’s desk.

Speaking of guts, his once spotless, steel grey breastplate, and other armaments, were mottled with blood and other grotesque biologic matter that defied description; that sort of thing was a badge of honor for the ANBU, something which signified a successful mission, but now it was just a vivid and smelly reminder of a colossal cockup. Stranger still, the torrential downpour they’d run through wasn’t enough to wash away the mess.

 _Yeah,_ he thought, _that’s gonna be loads of fun to scrape off later._

A calf length, black woolen cloak concealed most of the gore splattered across his uniform and the gods only knew what else was clinging to that thing; it was heavier and itchier because of the rain, but the overabundance of guilt and shame that weighed down his soul almost made his knees buckle.  He shivered slightly despite the warmth of the room, and as he did so, tiny water droplets slid down the curves of his stylized cat mask to join the growing puddle at his feet.  For the briefest of moments, he wanted to sink down inside the wet patch on the floor and disappear without a trace.  But running away and hiding from his mistakes had never really been his style; so here he stood, his arms at his sides, his bruised and bloodied fists clenched beneath the sodden cloak. 

_Damn it!_

_This whole thing was my fault._

Theirs had been a routine intelligence gathering mission.  All they needed do was keep track of the enemy’s movements near Konoha’s heavily forested western border and relay that information to the Hokage.  A mission monotonous in its simplicity; a supreme misuse of his skills and abilities, yet at its core this was a test.  Reuniting him with his former commander – could they work as well together as they had done in the past? The Hokage needed to see that for herself …

 and nothing was ever _routine_

when he teamed up with the man standing to his right.

In a moment of unparalleled stupidity, he’d shamed himself and almost lost his life.  Away from the watchful eye of his team leader, he plopped down behind a screen of tall wild grasses to rest; rest led to daydreaming and daydreaming turned into a nightmare.  A momentary lapse of focus and the enemy was upon him; caught in a compromising situation - unable to defend himself, his captain engaged the enemy.

Once more, he closed his eyes and breathed in the sickening scents of failure and death. If his mistake were made known, his days in ANBU would surely come to an end; even if it weren’t mentioned in an official report, he’d never forget this. 

His conscience and his team leader would surely see to that.

And as it had done when they were in the forest, the voice of his captain intruded on his thoughts - once more he wanted to flee; there was nowhere to run from that man’s pervasive presence, no hiding place from that libidinous baritone which resonated in the stillness of the cave-like room, and in the depths of his being.

_Damn that man and his voice; it’s what drove me to distraction in the first place._

He didn’t need to open his eyes as his commander continued speaking, for he could picture him standing there, gloating over the first kill of the mission with his white cloak splayed open and his chest puffed out fully displaying his own gore covered uniform like a garish trophy.

_What a bastard;_

_always did have a miles wide sadistic streak in him._

The man to his right, rather the legend behind the porcelain dog mask, was none other than ANBU’s Hound, one of Konoha’s elite assassins.  Judging from the tone of his voice, he could tell how proud Hound was of the bloody finger prints smeared across his armor, as well as the gouge of the enemy’s katana above his hip and the seared bits of flesh that stuck to his breastplate.  The slightly muffled voice behind the mask was chilling, its inflection never varying as he graphically described how they stalked and brought down the missing ninja.

_Wait . . . that wasn’t at all how it happened!_

_Why is he lying to the Hokage?_

He opened his eyes in time to see the spider’s web of clotted blood hanging from the enemy’s hitai-ate which Hound held in his claw-fingered glove; though the mask concealed it, he knew there was a self-satisfied sneer on Hound’s thin lips as he described the terror in the enemy’s eyes right before he decapitated him.   He felt the unabated killing instinct reawakening in the man beside him as he recounted the grisly tale, which in turn reignited Yamato’s urge to flee from Hound’s murderously charismatic aura, the same aura that enthralled and likewise disgusted him.

Scratch that –it was his lack of restraint when it came to this particular man that frightened and disgusted him.

You see, within the ANBU, espionage, kidnapping, torture and assassinations are part and parcel of their everyday existence; in order to retain a semblance of humanity, certain coping mechanisms had to be developed.  Some ANBU members became functional alcoholics; others practiced self-mutilation either to punish themselves for the horrific things the job required, or to feel something … anything other than the ever present numbness.  Others found their sense of balance engaging in risky sadomasochistic behavior, you know … the whole whips, chains, razor sharp kunai and hot candle wax scene. 

None of these things ever appealed to him.

Being of a more pragmatic nature, his way of coping came through time spent salvaging items from the junkyard which others deemed beyond repair; restoring them to full functionality or repurposing them to a new life of usefulness, that’s what kept him sane.  Over time, this ‘hobby’ of his began coloring his interactions with society at large; he found himself hopelessly attracted to ‘damaged goods,’ of the human variety. In his commanding officer, he found everything he wanted and needed in a dysfunctional relationship, all bundled together in a tidy five foot eleven psychotic package.

You see, Hound was the alter ego of Hatake Kakashi and as such, a distinctly separate personality; he was the coping mechanism that kept Kakashi sane.   The homicidal rampages, the slaughter of innocent women and children, these were the things that delighted Hound and repulsed Kakashi. 

He’d secretly witnessed his captain’s transition from one persona to another once before; it was an amazing spectacle. With each piece of the ANBU armor his captain donned, the man everyone thought they knew was swallowed up by Hound until he became the cold-hearted killing machine feared by allies and enemies.  Hound, was the repository for every nightmarish act Kakashi committed for the security and continued peace of the Hidden Leaf village. Hound was the epitome of unrestrained savagery, such as exhibited hours before when he disemboweled, beheaded and incinerated the remains of their enemy before Yamato’s shocked eyes.

That’s not to say Kakashi wasn’t a unique amalgam of compassion and brutality on his own; he was honest to the point of cruelty and one of the smoothest liars the gods ever permitted to walk the earth.  A man who projected a lazy, uncaring mien, all the while completely alert and in control of whatever situation he found himself in. 

And here’s where things got twisted.

Though attracted to Kakashi’s charm, his physical presence and dry sense of humor, it was Hound who captured his imagination.  Hound was intriguing and dangerously compelling; an entity that dwelt in a place of utter darkness, abject brokenness and death.

Never before or after had he been physically or sexually attracted to another man, there were times when his fascination with Hound felt as if he were being unfaithful to Kakashi.  A ridiculous notion of course, as he and Kakashi shared nothing more than a love for their village, and a desire to protect its people by any means necessary.   

This ‘thing’ with Hound was an obsession he’d learned to live with - something he thought he’d outgrown, that is . . .  until this latest mission.

A squeal of protest came from the humidity swollen casement and warm, gentle breezes carrying the fragrance of more rain, jerked him from these reflections when the Hokage cracked open a window behind her desk.

Suddenly, a brilliant white light ripped through a cobalt sky, illuminating the slumbering village as if it were midday; seconds later came an ear shattering explosion and the floor beneath their feet trembled. The massive wall of windows behind the Hokage’s desk rattled in their frames and dishes all over town probably shook behind closed cupboard doors.

As quickly as it came,

 the curtain of darkness was drawn tightly over the night sky.

Near the eastern edge of the village, an angry red orange fireball pierced the darkness as it blossomed over an electrical substation sending greyish black plumes of smoke, like gnarled fingers reaching for the bright yellow moon.  Six smaller explosions erupted in rapid succession and once more, instant darkness thick enough to be felt smothered the land.

One second …

                             three seconds…

                                                   five seconds

passed before the metallic cadence of an alarm sounded in the distance, summoning shinobi to their emergency stations.

His heart rose in his throat, sable brown eyes widened behind the narrow slits of his mask; at last, a legitimate reason to depart had literally come down from the heavens. With one word from the Hokage he could be far away from this confined space and even further away from _that_ man. 

It was not to be,

for this wasn’t an act of sabotage, rather a random occurrence of nature, an action against which, there was no defense.  This mind-numbing debriefing took precedence over all else, he knew that and though his overtaxed muscles coiled in readiness, he dared not move from his place.

Still, it was difficult to concentrate on the matter at hand.

In the relative quiet beyond the plate glass windows, every sound was magnified tenfold in his ears.

A distinctive _click_ of gears

engaging the hospital’s emergency generators, a mile away …

Frantic voices issuing commands, a quarter mile away…

Lastly, the sound of sandaled feet,

sloshing through puddles in the streets beneath the Hokage Tower,

keyed into his anxiety.

Despite the commotion, the man to his right droned on with his report. The nonchalant tone of his rich voice floating through the stagnant air in the room, its timbre soothing, and somehow, aggravating at the same time.

Later, he’d blame it on boredom or just plain old fatigue, but he was daydreaming again; transfixed by the slow moving, wispy clouds above the rising smoke as they drifted past the moon, their shadows painting a kaleidoscope of brown across the barren office walls.  The crackle and hum of fluorescent lights tore him away from his thoughts, as they grew stronger, banishing the shadows, he was left with a creepy-crawly sense of foreboding.  He’d spaced out long enough that Hound’s report had come to an end and now the Hokage was leaning back in her chair, staring directly at him; a slender, manicured index finger tapping at her bottom lip as she mulled over the information provided.  

“I could have done without the gory details, Hound,” she said.  “And I would have preferred him brought back alive … you screwed up a chance of gaining valuable information.”

“My apologies, Hokage-sama, “he said with a curt bow.

Folding creamy toned arms beneath her ample bosom, she shook her head. 

“What’s done is done.  I expect a full report, including justification for your actions on my desk within twenty-four hours.”

“As you wish, Lady Tsunade,” said Hound.

The full weight of her amber eyes rested on him now; he stood a bit straighter while avoiding direct eye contact with her.

 _She’s gonna to scold me because I wasn’t paying attention,_ he thought.

“Hound … Yamato … I had serious reservations about you two working together again.  Thought sure there be some lingering unresolved issues.  Obviously, I was wrong.”  

 _Of course she had reservations,_ he thought.  _No doubt she’d studied our personnel files beforehand and she knows I requested transfer from Hound’s command on several occasions.  Thank the gods … she will never know why I had to get away from Kakashi and Hound._

“So … Yamato, what was it like?”

“It was fine … everything was fine ma’am,” he hastily said. 

The foreboding he felt earlier made sense now.

She’d been watching him intently all along; waiting for a hitch in his breathing, any small movement signaling dissent while Hound was speaking.  Her eyes searching for the tiniest inconsistencies in his body language indicating signs of discontent or emotional duress.   

_Looks like my habit of daydreaming kept me out of trouble for once.  Since my mind was preoccupied, my body didn't have a chance to betray me.  Excellent!_

 “… unless you have something else to add, Yamato,” he heard her say.

_Damn it … I zoned out again!_

“No ma’am,” he stuttered. “Hound’s report covered everything.”

Leaning back in her seat once more, she locked eyes with him; even when she bent down, retrieving a flask of sake and a lavender colored cup from the open desk drawer beside her knee, the scrutiny didn’t let up.

“Sure you’re okay, Yamato?”

“Yes ma’am … a little wet and sticky, that’s all.”

“Very well then,” she said, measuring out a shot. “Now, get the hell outta here; you’re dripping god knows what all over my floor.”  

With her dismissal came a rush of blessed relief; he’d soon be free to return to the shadows.  None however could set him at liberty from his perfidious thoughts … those he’d deal with later, in the privacy of his own apartment. But before he could weave the signs for a transportation jutsu, a black gloved hand grabbed his wrist.

“Not so fast, boy,” snapped Hound. “Need to hash out a few details before I turn in our final report.”

_Bastard! He only calls me that to keep me in my place … a_

_reminder of my feckless youth._

But that word also ignited yearnings which lay dormant for years; now they were brought to the forefront when a cold, steel grey eye raked over him, looking right through him, choosing to see that which he could not hide.

_He was still Hound’s ‘boy.’_

Though small their point of physical contact, it sent a spike of adrenaline rushing through his body; familiar, yet alien . . . fight or flight. Better judgment prevailed and he silently cursed the years spent following orders without question.

 “Yes sir.”

With their mission complete, the persona of Hound vanished as soon as the door to the Hokage’s office slid closed.  Now, the full force of Kakashi’s disapproving glare radiated through the mask; the power of that solitary grey orb provoked another shudder. 

“Let’s head over to central supply first,” Kakashi suggested. “We’ll pick up some regular uniforms and hit one of the bathhouses in the civilian district.”

There was a teasing lilt in his captain’s voice, one he hadn’t heard in years; it set off an alarm in his head, even as it sent a jolt of electricity to his groin.

“We can have a hot meal, my treat of course,” he continued, “and we’ll have the privacy needed to discuss one ‘critical’ element of that mission.”

Yamato knew all too well …

there was no such thing as a free meal with this man.

  _With a silver tongue and a crooked smile, he’ll surely devour what’s left of my honor and dignity as a ninja._

_Pretty sure I deserve far worse, but I can deal with this._

_If I’m lucky … another twelve years will pass before I see him again._


	2. The More They Stay The Same

As they walk in silence down the winding hallway, Yamato let his mind drift in another direction - one which took him to a far away, better left forgotten chapter of his life.

Back when he was still a member of the Foundation, he came to know Kakashi during an unintentional joint mission; Kinoe was his code name then.  On another mission where he was assigned to kill Kakashi and steal his Sharingan, they ended up working together, escaping a trap which would have killed them both. He was booted from the Foundation, given a new direction in life and a new name (Tenzou), when he joined the ranks of the regular ANBU.

A timid, socially awkward youth, he was assigned to Team Ro, under the leadership of Hatake Kakashi.

Rumors of this young man’s intelligence, tactical proficiency and prowess garnered the respect of his peers and captured the attention of the higher ups inside ANBU headquarters and the Foundation.  He counted himself fortunate in all but one respect - ANBU operatives have code names to protect their true identities; he was stuck with the unimaginative ‘Cat’ whereas Kakashi was ‘Hound.’

The moniker suited the man.

Loyal to a fault, Hound would willingly lay down his life in defense of the village that owned him. He also derived a sick sense of pleasure in following the orders of his master to the letter.  Like a bloodhound, he’d relentlessly track and pursue an enemy for days--weeks if necessary, fueled only by soldier pills and an ungodly thirst for blood.

“Whatever it takes to accomplish the mission, that I will do,” was a credo both Kakashi and Hound lived by.

Hound was a force of nature … the ultimate killing machine.  Efficient, ruthless and sadistic … hardly anyone could work with him for long. That all changed when Hound of the ANBU took an interest in his training.

Yamato was thrilled to bits and a little terrified because

Hound was …  in a word … insane.

His instructional methods, extremely harsh -- some would even call them inhuman.  But in spite of, or perhaps, because of the barbed words of reproof and sparse morsels of praise, Yamato was spurred on to do things he never thought possible. He weathered the rigorous training of his body and mind without hesitation, in awe that such a man would deign indoctrinate him into the life of an assassin.

But once a mission ended, so too did their interaction.

Kakashi on the other hand, actively sought him out, they spent time together, getting to know each other; becoming more than comrades … they thought of one another as friends.

He almost laughed out loud recalling some of his lame attempts at emulating his senpai.

One of them began as a training exercise; seeing how long he could spy on Kakashi without being detected.   In the stillness of a deserted training field, he watched from the shadows as his captain went through his katas; Kakashi’s lithe body moved with a fluidity he did not yet possess.  Envious at first, over time he realized his fascination with this young man was breeding a skewered sense of possessiveness.  It was also during those times that he fell deeper under the charismatic sway of this man; soon thereafter he was consumed by an overarching need to please the staid man in whatever way he would have asked. 

Blatant hero worship in turn became infatuation,

infatuation became obsession,

an obsession that led him to question

his sanity and his sexuality.

Embarrassed and ashamed, he pled with the Third Hokage for a transfer from Kakashi’s command; that request was flatly denied. As it turned out, the Third had already pegged his captain for a more important long term mission.  Word soon came down the pike - Kakashi was leaving ANBU that he might lead a team of neophytes from the Academy as a jounin-sensei.  Naturally, there was a tremendous sense of loss and rejoicing in some quarters too, but Yamato knew it was for the best – finally he’d have the opportunity to stand on his own two feet.

And on this rainy night, so many years later, though he stood beside his captain as a battle hardened and confident man in his own right, four days and three nights spent in Hound’s company saw him revert to that puerile state of mind.   

And for the first time in years,

he was locked in battle against the twin demons

of lust and self-loathing.

*****     *****     *****

At this time of evening, the bathhouse was busy, yet Kakashi somehow charmed his way into a private room.

“Won’t do to have innocent ears privy to the drunken ramblings of two tired shinobi,” he whispered to the blushing hostess.

 _Something’s definitely off, Yamato thought_ while the bath attendants briskly scrubbed at their bodies. _He’s too carefree …too giddy and too chatty._

The moment he entered the bathing area, Kakashi called out, “The sake’s warm and it smells wonderful.  Come … join me.”

Even when lazing about, naked as a jaybird, Kakashi possessed an intimidating aura.  Completely unarmed, this man was as deadly as a nest of cockatrices.

Through the rising steam, he made out the play of whipcord muscle in an arm casually draped over the bath’s edge; sweat glistened on a broad chest littered with scars normally hidden by a bulky breastplate or flak vest. Well-shaped hands and fingers, better suited to a piano’s keyboard, were equally at home flicking away tiny waves in the water as they were to ripping the windpipe from an enemy’s throat.

Sinking down into the still, soothing water, his steady breaths made ripples beneath his nose.   

Maybe it was the heat …

maybe it was the proximity to his captain

 or possibly, it was the effect of a half cup of premium sake,

 – whichever the culprit, something about Kakashi’s hair had him waging a losing war against nervous laughter.  

_Those silvery spikes which defy gravity under normal conditions,_

_apparently shake their fists at humidity as well,_ he laughed to himself.

 _Stop it!_   _Stupid thoughts like these are why_

_I’m facing a dressing down tonight._

_The last thing I need to do now is piss him off_

_or give him something else to tease me about._

Just then, one of the servers slid back the door on the other side of the room.  “Honored guests,” he said. “Your meals will be ready in five minutes.  Shall I prepare the dining area?”

“Please do,” Kakashi replied bowing his head slightly.  “I don’t know about you, kiddo, but I’m starving … let’s go.”

Hoisting himself from the water, the skimpy cotton towel hastily wrapped around his waist slipped down to reveal a sharp hipbone.

“Like what you see, Tenzou?”

A snappy comeback never made it past his lips, his breath caught in his throat as he diverted his eyes. The tense set of his shoulders however, told Kakashi everything he needed to know.

Dinner passed in silence, a mechanical parody of satisfying their bodies need for refueling. After the hostess cleared away their empty plates, a growing knot of anxiety in his stomach threatened to present the rapidly eaten meal in a most embarrassing manner.  He swallowed hard, wishing to get past the reprimand and slink back to home to lick his wounds.

Kakashi chose not to look at him, fiddling with the rim of his sake cup instead.  “What you did when you went off on solo reconnaissance was selfish and extremely dangerous.”

At last … the other sandal dropped.

“I’m sorry senpai,” he said, contritely bowing his head. “I . . . I don’t know --”

“Unfortunately for us, Tenzou, the enemy had a sense of smell almost as keen as mine.” Raising the cup to his lips, he drained the small amount of sake remaining and slammed the cup down on the table.  

“The scent of your spunk gave away your location -  damn near jeopardized the mission. Thank the gods that ass wipe was a missing ninja -  his death shouldn’t cause a problem between the nations.” This time, he leaned closer, his chin cupped in the heel of his hand. “Don’t get me wrong …I enjoy a good yank myself now and again, but there’s a time and place for everything.”

What was worse?

Knowing Kakashi knew his shame, or

knowing his life may have ended

simply because he couldn’t resist his baser instincts?

That eerie sense of foreboding he’d felt in the Hokage’s office returned with a vengeance.  I’m sorry, sir,” he mumbled, “won’t happen aga--”

“Don’t trouble yourself about it, surely you know me better than that, Tenzou,” he said, that off-register lilt in his voice. “Certainly wouldn’t include that detail in the official report … I’m not that petty.”

In a flash, he lifted his head and saw the anger blazing in Kakashi’s eye.

“However, I’m gonna help you remember how to conduct yourself appropriately in the future.”

It’d been years since he heard that tone of voice, yet it still carried the power to knock the wind out of him.

_He can’t be serious!_

“Kakashi … senpai, you have my word, that I’ll never --”

“As my kohai, you will accept whatever discipline I deem necessary. End of discussion.”

The frostiness of his voice lowered the temperature in the room by a few degrees, and once again, Yamato was inwardly transformed into that uncertain youth of the past.

 This was a threat wrapped up in a promise, a command he dared not disobey; it jangled against threadbare nerves, for you see,

 

Kakashi Hatake never issued idle threats.

 

NOTE:

Puerile: childishly foolish; immature or trivial.

A cockatrice was a legendary monster, part snake and part cock (male rooster), that could kill with a glance. Stumbling upon a nest of them probably wouldn’t have been a pleasant experience.

 

 


	3. Bubble Bubble Toil and Trouble

_“As my kohai, you will accept whatever discipline I deem necessary. End of discussion.”_  

Funny how the mind works; randomly collecting, recording and filtering data, it also selectively eradicates that which might be harmful upon recollection. Conversely, it holds fast extraneous strings of data, accessing them when it’s least convenient, to make sense of the nonsensical. Funnier still is, how one word could obliterate the barrier between the boy Kinoe was and the man Yamato is. 

 _“As my kohai, you will accept whatever discipline_ _I deem necessary. End of discussion.”_  

Discipline – Kakashi’s discipline made him strong, sagacious, and decisive on the field of battle. Silence – Kakashi’s silence filling the tiny room where they sat, made him self-conscious, irrational and uncertain. Locked in this tense atmosphere, his brain was working overtime filling the dead spaces where conversation should have been; supplying him with words pride would not allow him to say and putting words in his captain’s mouth he did not wish to hear. 

Discipline; its main objective - instilling compliance. 

Discipline -  a code of conduct, a set of rules and regulations; these were the building blocks which established a hierarchy, a chain of command, a threefold cord of responsibility that preserves order in the military. Every shinobi worth his salt knew what was expected of them or what they could expect should they failed to adhere to the standards set before them. 

" _As my kohai **,** you will accept whatever discipline I deem necessary. End of discussion."_  

Senpai and kohai, master and student; these were the conventions of society which also dictated their behavior. Three years younger than his captain, he always held out hope that they would grow into a relationship more like that of brothers.  In Kakashi he found an unexpected ally.   Much to the surprise of his peers, he alone was granted access into the reclusive world of Hatake Kakashi - a major victory and one he didn't take lightly. ANBU's Hound on the other hand, always made certain he understood and stayed in his place. 

At last, the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle came together when he realized one simple truth; whatever might happen in the next few hours hinged on which personality manifested to administer his punishment. 

If it were, god forbid, Hound, his chastisement would be something ridiculous and extremely embarrassing; like the time he made him dress up as a geisha in full makeup and a flowing pink kimono to serve dinner and drinks to his ANBU teammates because he'd neglected to pack his own supply of food pills.

That was definitely a bought lesson.

Kakashi on the other hand, favored a more traditional approach to correction - the physical type. Once, while still a rookie, Kakashi made him run laps around the village with a backpack full of wet cement until he puked, and then ten more laps around the village because he'd puked. Needless to say, he never forgot to carry enough kunai and shuriken with him after that. Looking back, he much preferred that sort of punishment versus the other ones Kakashi occasionally employed; the ones where he'd find himself draped across the other man's knee as the paddle or hairbrush fell without mercy or bent over a chair as the razor strop or tawse bit into his thighs and buttocks until hot, silent tears streamed down his face. 

 _No, those days are long gone_ , he thought.

 _He wouldn't resort to such archaic methods to get his point across._  

Knowing him better than most, he recognized that the anticipation and the penetrating glances that ended with a lopsided grin – were small, yet powerful aspects of the way Kakashi operated.  

_He always got his kicks from screwing with my mind,_

_drawing things out to trigger a reaction._

_Well, I'll be dammed if I give him the satisfaction this time._

Resolved, he sat cross legged, stone faced and tight lipped, having found the boldness to establish intermittent eye contact with his tormentor. Schooling his features into an unmovable façade was child's play; after all, the art of deception was second nature for a shinobi of his caliber. Disguising his body's autonomic responses however, required ingenuity; the sweaty palms he could lightly rest atop his knees, slow measured breaths would counteract his rapidly beating heart and the perspiration dotting his forehead could easily be attributed to the stifling heat in the room. Meanwhile his mind was still sifting through random bits of information, readying a verbal defense for the inevitable confrontation. 

The sounds of slippers, the rustling of silk in the hallway, and then a soft knock on the rice paper partition of their private dining area finally pushed away these uncomfortable thoughts; it also turned Kakashi's laser focus from him. 

The smell of cheap perfume and high quality sake made both men turn as the door slid open revealing a rotund, elderly woman. 

"Ah, so it is you, Kakashi-kun," she said poking her head into the room. "No wonder my staff was all atwitter. May I come in?" 

Kakashi respectfully nodded. "Greetings Okami-san." With a sweep of his arm toward Yamato he hastened to add, "My kohai and I thank you for hosting us at such a late hour." 

To the untrained eye, this was nothing more than a gracious exchange of pleasantries; but there was something else going on beneath the surface. For starters, Kakashi never made a move to cover the lower half of his face when the old lady knocked on the door. While the man wasn't shy when it came to showing off his unclothed body, he was very particular, almost paranoid about revealing the entirety of his face; obviously, he knew her quite well and more importantly, he trusted her. Something else bothered him about this woman … she was no ordinary civilian.  Though age slowed her movements, she carried herself with a confidence and no-nonsense air akin to that of a skilled kunoichi; maybe that's why Kakashi was at ease in her presence. 

Peering around her bowed form, he saw two younger women kneeling beside the door; they were definitely civilians. In spite of their demure behavior, their manner of dress labeled them as prostitutes; he wanted no part of that action.  

While he wasn't a stranger to working off a mission’s tension with whatever whore he could afford, he certainly didn't want to get freaky in front of his senpai. 

Just the thought of such things greatly embarrassed him; he couldn’t hide the warm blush spreading over his cheeks and knowing Kakashi was eyeing him from across the lacquered table made that warmth a thousand times hotter. 

The old lady finally made her way to their table with an uncorked bottle of sake and a slight smile on her lips.

"Should you require additional assistance," she said with a wink, "the ladies in the hall will count it a privilege to cater to your 'other' needs." 

He almost gave himself whiplash as he turned to gauge his captain’s reaction. Even without the mask, Kakashi was an extremely difficult man to read; his handsome face a blank slate … only the gods knew what devious plans he had up the sleeve of his yukata.  

There came a soft chuckle from the other side of the table, one that bespoke mischief in the making. "As usual," Kakashi said, acknowledging the smiling young women, "you've thought of everything, haven't you?" 

"Only the very best for those who keep us safe," she said, setting the tokkuri on the table nearest Kakashi.  With a hitch of her thumb in Yamato's direction she added, "This one here, looks like he could use some additional relaxation."  

The 'ladies' in the hall thought that was comical, coyly tittering and pointing at the now furiously blushing man; didn’t help a bit that his captain was laughing his ass off too.  Bristling under the concerned eyes of both his senpai and the old lady, he turned his body away from them. 

"Not to worry," Kakashi said with a smirk, "he always looks tense. I dare say, even the combined skills of these young ladies wouldn't be enough to make him relax; although I wouldn't mind being the recipient of their full attention." 

_So that's what he’s playing at, huh?_

_Making me watch as he cavorts and has sex with these two whores?_

_Just like that rat bastard to twist the knife in my gut!_  

"Thank you for selecting two of your most skilled masseurs to attend us, Okami-san,” “Your hospitality and discretion are much appreciated, but we were just about to call it a night, isn’t that right, Tenzou?"  

Yamato’s eyes flickered between Kakashi and the woman he’d mistakenly thought of as a whorehouse madam. "Yes,” he mumbled.  “Thank you for your hospitality ma’am.”  

"As you wish, shinobi-san," she said, turning to leave. With a snap of her fingers, the young women in the hall women likewise dismissed themselves.  

Once the door slid shut, Kakashi stretched out like a contented cat in a beam of sunshine. "Best get moving,” he said with a yawn, “I’m sure it’s almost past your bedtime, Tenzou." 

*****     *****     ***** 

Outside, the pitter patter of fat raindrops sound like tiny detonations against the tin roof of the building; inside the spacious changing room, the backlit clock on the wall counts down the seconds to whatever 'discipline' awaits.

Tick . . . Tock . . . Tick. 

The light blue yukata, so soft against his skin earlier, chafed at him now like a twilled cotton straight jacket. 

Tick . . . Tock . . . Tick. 

With his back to the other man, he made up his mind to put an end to this foolish game of cat and mouse; he'd had it up to his back teeth, torn between absolution for his guilt and the need to confront his senpai. 

Tick . . . Tock . . . Boom! 

Wheeling around, his face flushed with anger, his breathing sharp, he was surprised to see Kakashi, completely dressed and leaning against his own locker with his arms folded across his chest.  

That relaxed 'devil-may-care' pose pissed him off. 

"Damn it, senpai," he heard himself roar, "I'm not the same wet behind the ears little punk you bullied years ago!”  

Between one breath and the next, he found himself pressed against the cold steel of a locker behind him; Kakashi, or was that . . . Hound's face was a hairsbreadth from his own.  

"Ah … there's the fire I've been waiting to see,” he whispered. When a slender hand reached out to chuckle under his chin, the back of his head collided with unyielding metal when he tried to move away. 

"I'll caution you this but once, Tenzou. It's a bad idea to let your emotions write a check your ass can't cash."  

The room spun when that sinewy body pressed against his … he almost swallowed his tongue when Kakashi dipped his head and nuzzled against his neck; his warm breath ghosting over exposed skin. And when that hardness pressed into his thigh, Yamato felt his brain completely disconnect. 

Fear didn’t make him suck in a deep breath, inhaling the clean, musky scent of the man holding him captive with his body, no … this was raw carnality, with a double portion of craven, wanton, lust. 

It didn't bolster the argument for remaining conscious when Kakashi palmed his erection through the thin cotton fabric either. 

"Let's finish this … somewhere more private,” that low, sultry voice whispered.

*****     *****     ***** 

He scarcely remembered how or when they arrived at Kakashi's home. All he knew was he was in the middle of Kakashi's dimly lit living room, while the other man slowly undressed him.  

Never before had his captain done something this intimate. 

The rough material of his new uniform, scratched at sensitized skin as it was gently removed from his body.  A familiar, warm chakra tickled as Kakashi healed his wounds from earlier. Sliding down his body, until all he could see was a mop of silver hair and broad shoulders covered in navy blue fabric, Kakashi slowly undid the bindings on his legs; his pants disappeared without his knowledge and thin lips kissed their way upward, first one leg and then the other. 

Naturally, his captain completely ignored the hardness straining against suddenly too tight standard issue cotton briefs. 

_Is he that drunk?  Am I?_

_This is some weird kinda of genjutsu … has to be_ , he thought.

_What the hell is he up to?_

Those warm hands were moving again, cupping, squeezing his buttocks as he kept those lips of his moving ever upward, searching out a sensitive area around his navel; in a flash, his underwear vanished, likely joining the pile where his pants and shirt lay. The wet tip of Kakashi's tongue flicked over a nipple, as calloused finger pads tweaked and rolled the other one. Once more, warm breath tickled at his neck, and those roving hands stopped to rest on smooth nether cheeks. 

"Close your eyes … please," Kakashi finally said, rubbing the tip of his nose against his kohai’s earlobe. "I've got a surprise for you." 

When he did as instructed, the warmth of Kakashi's body was gone; stretching out his senses, that he might feel where he’d run off to, was of no avail.  

Then came the sound of something heavy, dragging across the hardwood floor; he didn't need to open his eyes to know -  it was the dreaded straight backed chair from the kitchen being moved into place. 

And then, there was silence. 

NOTES: 

Title lifted from act one, scene one of William Shakespeare’s Macbeth; not to worry, he and I go way back …he’s cool with it.  

‘Okami-san’ is a formal way of addressing women who own such businesses; much thanks to Weeping Cadaver for making me aware of this.

Tokkuri: ceramic flask used to serve sake; generally bulbous with a narrow neck.

 

 


	4. Double Trouble

What need was there for words when one action spoke volumes?

In the silence, came reprieve . . .

time to prepare himself for what would follow,

time to hope for a last minute stay of execution

he knew would never come.

In the silence there was also assurance; once dealt with, his sins forgiven, he could return to his pedestrian life . . . far away from his captain.

One last gift silence bestowed –

justifiable apprehension.

Kakashi was a man who lived to defy the expectations of others; always straightforward in speech and inconsistent in action.

As if the past eighty-four hours weren’t proof of that.

Four days and three nights spent in Hound’s dispassionate presence and murderous intensity, three hours at the bathhouse, working around Kakashi’s physical distance and then the sudden, sensually threatening closeness.

All of it, confusing.

Less than an hour ago, was the concern shown in the healing his wounds. Sure, Kakashi rendered aid to an injured comrade when necessary, but the sincerity behind the gentle touches and teasing kisses rendered Yamato speechless and horny.

The only times his captain laid hands on him were either to push him out of harm’s way, pat him on the back when he did well, or to punish him like a willful child when he screwed up.

But this entire evening felt rather like he'd been sucked up into a cyclone; a mad whirl of words and stormy silences, pulled him in one direction and snatched him the opposite way before he could get his bearings.

But this was how his captain always was –

it was his way of decompressing after tedious missions.

He understood of course, a psyche as fragmented as his captain's needed a single object upon which to project its inner conflict . . . something or someone to act as a retaining wall to keep two very powerful personas separated. So, he either buried his head in a book for hours on end, shutting out everything and everyone around him or he’d seek out an easy to fleece comrade, like him or Gai, tinkering with their minds or scrounging up a free meal.

Over the years, he came to see these harmless activities as another quirk of his captain’s personality; that made dealing with his rare moments of playful silliness or Hound’s even rarer displays of remorse easier to work with.

But tonight, Kakashi reached a new level of incongruity.

And the wrong word

at the wrong time

 might set free the wrong personality

 to deal with him in his very susceptible state.

He should have been scared witless, but minute by agonizing minute his anxiety transmutes into a sluggish, gurgling resentment.

Gone were the days when everything Kakashi said was taken as gospel truth; the time had passed when every move Hound made was met with open mouthed, wide eyed wonder. He’d stepped out of his captain’s shadow and stood up from under Hound’s thumb years ago.

Kakashi’s blatant refusal to accept that was not only irritating, it was downright disrespectful.

And just like that, the fire his captain was so pleased to see earlier burned afresh within him; the haunting silences intended to intimidate him became the anvil upon which he forged his anger.

_Eccentric bastard!_

_Let’s just get this over with._

_Eccentric,_ he laughed to himself, _a label applied to those too rich, too powerful or mysterious to be called crazy to their faces_.

 Kakashi was all these things and as twisted as they came. Still, the man had a way about him, a charm that could deflate anyone’s anger faster than a straight pin to a balloon. It oozed from his pores like a charlatan’s elixir, insinuating itself as a cure for whatever affliction beset the person he was conning. 

 In truth his allure was moreso an illicit drug, addicting body and soul, sharpening the craving for more and more of his whispered promises and lies.

And the longer he stood in the center of his captain’s home, the harder it was to maintain an edge on this newfound anger;

you see, Tenzou was like a junkie, fresh out of mandatory rehab

and his captain was offering just one more fix.  
  
*****     *****     *****

Kakashi’s inner sanctum was one of those places everyone wanted to see; only a few were granted access into his bastion of peace against the clamor of battle and the hushed murmurs of polite society. But for all the privilege access provided, for Yamato, this was a place he’d forever associate with the pain of correction and the agony of unrequited desire.

A place where the smell of over ripened fruit on the kitchen table and the scent of the woods on a warm summer’s day mixed together, undulated in a hypnotic dance that transported him straightway to the last time he’d stood here.

In his mind’s eye, he saw himself as that sixteen-year-old boy standing in the same spot . . .  unarmed, unclothed and trembling as his nineteen-year-old commander scolded him from his seat on the old wooden chair; he felt the warmth from the other man’s body as he stretched himself across those strong thighs in preparation for punishment.  Even now, he could hear himself softly sobbing as the narrow paddle fell again and again . . . the smack of pitiless wood against tender reddening flesh always brought him to an embarrassingly emotional release.

And as those memories wound themselves through his mind, he felt that same itchy, tingling sensation flapping around in the pit of his stomach that made the rest of his body ache for Kakashi’s touch . . .

With a slight shake of his head, he squeezed his eyes shut tighter.  _I can’t afford to let myself go back to that place!_

He came to his senses slowly only to discover what initially felt like a roughhewn gorge a trillion miles wide between him and Kakashi was approximately ten inches of empty space by his reckoning. 

 In the moments since his disappearance and return, the very atmosphere around his captain was unsettled and brittle in its coldness.

_By the gods, this is exactly the way Hound approaches a mission; deadly silent and emotionally detached._

The temptation to crack open an eyelid without permission was overwhelming, taking every ounce of willpower he had not to succumb. Somehow, the idea that Hound was the one examining his nakedness was extremely terrifying yet inappropriately arousing; the arms held loosely at his sides, flew forward to hide a spontaneous erection, knowing all the while that nothing would escape the other man’s notice.

Once more, he felt as if he were walking a tightrope, blindfolded and hogtied, high above a moat filled with hungry piranha; one false move and he’d be ripped to shreds.  Then came a blast of hot air behind him, like that from a furnace; it pushed him forward, though he knew he hadn’t moved an inch.

“ _You’re trapped in an illusion,”_ his mind pointed out. “ _This isn’t real!_ ”

_That’s right, direct eye contact with a Sharingan user is necessary to invoke a genjutsu; the only time it was uncovered was when I challenged him in the bathhouse changing room._

Muddled as his thoughts were back then, what with Kakashi’s body pressed against his, he couldn’t remember whether he’d looked directly into the damn thing or not.  Still, he felt it a reckless waste of energy using such a powerful tool against a comrade for something this trivial, especially since he’d been cooperative up until now.

Then again, maybe it was Kakashi’s ‘bass ackward’ way of acknowledging his growth; a warped way to amplify the anticipation.

Regardless of the motive, the most important things right at present were figuring out how to short circuit the flow of his chakra and circumventing the jutsu.

Just when he’d gained a measure of control over his faculties, Kakashi spoke:

“Open your eyes Tenzou.”

That smoky voice wrapped itself around him like liquid silk, drawing him closer, inescapably binding him to the one who’d pronounced his judgment . . .  to the one who stood ready to carry it out.

Heavy eyelids snapped open, wanting to take in the expression on Kakashi’s face, yet fearing what he might see when he slowly lifted his head. Bare feet stood beside one of the chair’s sturdy legs . . . Kakashi’s shins. still bound with crisp white bandages, his navy blue uniform pants and shirt looked as if they’d been tailored to accentuate his willowy frame. As expected, his broad hands and slender fingers were free of the leather gloves he usually wore; they were gripped tightly around a large, wide mahogany box he held in front of his body like a present.

Finally, there was Kakashi’s face . . . clean shaven, ruggedly handsome with a devilish grin on his lips and the Sharingan concealed behind an eye patch made of dark blue fabric.

_Hold on a minute! If my eyes were closed this entire time and the Sharingan was hidden, it would have been impossible for him to capture and hold me in a genjutsu._

Refusing to believe the disjointed thoughts and phantom sensations he’d felt earlier were products of his own imagination, he chose to focus instead on the box Kakashi held.

  
That choice proved itself as a huge mistake.

  
He should have stayed trapped inside the world of illusion . . . a world where his deepest secrets and memories provided a pleasant diversion, but what that box contained was reality, a relic from his past . . . a past he’d be revisiting all too soon. Chewing at the inside of his cheek kept him from saying something stupid and once more he lowered his head in shame.

“Ah, I see you remember our little box . . . and its purpose,” Kakashi said. “Shall I also assume you know what comes next, Tenzou?”

A slow, guilty nod was all he had the capacity to give; as if the sight of that innocuous brown box sapped his remaining strength.

If he lived for a thousand years he’d never forget what those six scraps of wood held, or the ritual it came to represent. You see, for every six months spent under Kakashi’s command, a new implement was added to mark the occasion, after it had been properly ‘broken in,’ of course.  All told, the box contained five paddles of various lengths, widths and weights, two leather straps, one thick, the other thin; one razor strop, three tawses (one with two tails, the other with three tails and the last with four tails), and one wickedly effective hairbrush.

He heard the _swish_ of starched fabric as one leg brushed against the other when Kakashi took his seat and then there was the sound of heavy wood settling against wood when that box was set on the floor.

The time for pardon was upon him; the pain of atonement was nigh.

“You already know _how_ I’m going to punish you,” Kakashi said.

  
He lifted his head just as his captain leaned to his left; the sound of metal scraping against metal filled the quiet space when the clasps holding the lid of the box snapped open; the sight of blood red silk cradling each implement, the same color his bottom and thighs would be when this was all over, made his cock twitch.

_What the hell is the matter with me?_

“Now that I have your full attention, tell me _why_ I need to punish you, Tenzou.”

This was the part he hated worse than the sting of any implement contained in that stupid box.

He simply couldn’t bring himself to speak. His throat, dry as the desert during a sandstorm, but his reticence had more to do with a presence slowly approaching behind him.

Another rush of heat accompanied the sound of footsteps, heavy and ominous, the fine hairs from the back of his legs to the nape of his neck reached out like metal filings to a magnet toward whatever this ‘thing’ was.

Without warning, something firm and leathery pressed itself between his shoulder blades, tracing a heated path down his spine. His eyes flew to Kakashi sitting there nonplussed on his throne of judgment, giving no indication anything was amiss.  

Quickly looking to his right, Yamato came face-to-mask with ANBU’s Hound.

_Good god in heaven . . ._

_I must be losing my mind!_

As the last bits of color retreated from his cheeks, Hound moved closer to stand beside him; his untamed silver hair spilling over the left side of the mask . . .  the white cloak, his mantle of authority, draped over broad shoulders, and the grey breastplate he wore was meticulously clean.  Brushed silver gauntlets on his forearms overlaid elbow length black leather gloves; the close fitting black uniform, and general aura of hostility Hound wore like a second skin, were making him lightheaded with fear when the man stepped closer to growl,

“Yes, Yamato . . . tell _us_ why you should be punished.”

If Hound said anything else after that, he missed it entirely, given the sound of his own rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears.

  
  
_Breathe . . . just breathe_ , he told himself. _This is Kakashi … toying with me,_

_trying to freak me out.”_

Suddenly it dawned on him; one of these ‘men’ had to be a shadow clone … but which one?

As soon as his eyes stopped darting between the smug man seated before him and the glowering man standing by his side, his body reacted faster than his mind could and he took a half step backward. Hound grabbed his right arm in a vise like grip and jerked him toward Kakashi.

His breath came in spurts as he tried to regain his footing. 

“Kakashi?” "Hound-san?” 

“What the . . .  why are you . . . what the hell is going on here?”

There came a grunt of disdain from ‘Hound’ and a light chuckle from ‘Kakashi’ before he heard the man in the chair say, “Oh, don’t mind him.   Hound insisted on being here to oversee your punishment and I just couldn’t refuse.”

“Damn right,” Hound said when he released his arm. “Kakashi was always much too lenient with you.”

  
Stepping closer, Hound and all his menacing darkness completely obstructed his view; a chilly breastplate pressed against his bare chest as Hound roughly slapped away the hands hiding a straining erection.  
  
“If I feel he's holding back on you this time,” he whispered as his gloved hand stretched around Tenzou’s throat, “I’m going to step in and make damn sure this is one lesson you won’t soon forget.”

_Holy crap!_

_Never before had Hound made a physical appearance during one of their ritualized punishment sessions; why would Kakashi allow it to happen now?_

  
As Hound dragged his fingers down a quivering chest, all coherent thought fled from his mind; when a smooth calfskin leather palm cupped his balls, there was a manly gasp of surprise a split second before his mind went totally blank.

“Well, well,” said Hound as he applied pressure around his hefty handful, “looks like your little kohai has finally grown a pair, Kakashi.”  
A final squeeze, not enough to cause pain, but one clearly designed to tantalize and then, Hound abruptly turned and walked away.

His eyes fluttered closed when the hem of his team leader’s cloak brushed against his midsection ... the scratch of soft wool more like talons, glancing across the shaft of his cock.

Taking his place near the box, Hound folded his arms over his breastplate. “Let’s get this show on the road,” he snapped.

When next Yamato opened his eyes, there sat a clearly bemused Kakashi with a look of expectancy in his eye; the masked man beside him stood ramrod straight, primed to swoop down on him should he incorrectly bat an eyelash.  
In that instant, one of the craziest ideas ever took shape in his mind;

  _Teamwork,_ it was a concept both Kakashi and Hound heartily espoused and both personalities had zero tolerance for those who could not or would not work well together. 

 If he were able to pit one personality against the other, it would surely force the dissipation of the shadow clone, leaving him at the mercy of the other.  
Groveling would only stroke Hound’s ego, yet it would stir Kakashi’s heart to empathy.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Kakashi said. “Shall I repeat it for you, Tenzou?”

There was that patronizing tone in his voice, the one that normally triggered an exaggerated eye roll, but this time it was met with a glimmer of optimism. The longer he kept ‘Kakashi’ talking, the better his chances ‘Hound’ would be muzzled.

“No sir,” he meekly replied, “that won’t be necessary. I’m sorry, I made a very stupid mistake … compromised our position and could have gotten us killed.”  
The joints in the floorboards sharply met his kneecaps when he pitched himself forward; his forehead, kept inches from the pockmarked wooden surface when his clammy palms slapped against it.

Overkill perhaps, but he no longer cared whether Hound or Kakashi knew how nervous he truly was.  

“I let myself get distracted,” he hurriedly said. The tips of his brown hair agitated a thin layer of dust beneath him when he bowed lower; grit and dog hair flavored the powdery substance in his mouth when he whispered, “Please, forgive me sirs.”

Again, there was silence.

He couldn’t see what was going on around him but he could sense Kakashi and Hound exchanging heated looks; Kakashi was likely moved with compassion, while Hound was probably glaring darkly, silently egging Kakashi on to finish what they’d started.

Through the floorboards, he could feel the heat of rising impatience but from whom, he could not tell.

It was Hound who spoke.   
  
“Forgiveness is granted only after truth is confessed."

 _Truth_ , it was a burden made heavier each year he held onto it, suppressed it, and denied it; were he to utter the truth aloud, it would be his ticket to freedom though it would sever once and for all the bond built with Kakashi.

 _Truth_ , were he to whisper it, would repulse Kakashi as surely as it would infuriate Hound.  
_No . . . not a chance I’m not willing to take!_

“Please sirs, I fucked up . . . for my mistake, I’ll gladly accept the consequences--”

“Oh, yes,” was Kakashi’s cold response, “you will accept the consequences, Tenzou . . . gladly or otherwise.”

The old chair creaked when Kakashi leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “Now, look at me . . . tell me what was so important that it took your mind off the mission.”

There was no way in hell he’d able to look up now, for his eyes would betray whatever lies his lips would tell.

“Please sir, I’d rather not say.”

The sound of sandaled feet approached from his blind side and then Hound's ominous presence hovered over him; a heavy palm slapped down, grabbing hold of his hair, yanking his head and torso upright.

“You’re testing my limited patience, boy," hissed an angered Hound.  "Answer his question!”

Through the pain, all Yamato saw was Kakashi, his forearms resting on his thighs as he leaned forward. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be, Tenzou,” he said.

  
The fingers entwined in his hair tensed, this time jerking his body backwards until his head rested against a muscular thigh. Hound leaned over to say, “You’ve got five seconds to tell him the truth . . . or I will.”

White hot anger sent whatever sense of self-preservation Yamato had left running for cover; before he realized what he was doing, he’d already reached up to free himself from Hound's grip.  
"Let go of me, you bastard!" Rocking his head backward as hard as this position allowed him to, he glared directly through the narrow slits of his captor's mask as he spat out these last words:

"Enough! Release the jutsu!

I've had my fill of your games for one night!"

Astounded when Hound freed him, he was completely unprepared to brace himself when a bony knee forced itself between his shoulder blades, pressing him down until his forehead smashed against the floor.

"Foolish little boy," he heard him say. "You're in no position to make demands."

Before he could catch his breath, Hound's weight shifted and the hand that once painfully tugged at his hair was now wrapped around the nape of his neck as he was crudely hefted to his feet. Shoved forward until he stood at his captain's right side, it was hard to miss the look of pity in Kakashi's dark gray eye, right before he felt himself being pushed across the waiting lap.

The next things he saw were Hound’s feet standing on either side of the open box of implements.

"We'll get the truth out of you," said Hound, "one way or the other."

The heavy weight of Kakashi's forearm fell across the small of his back and warm fingers curled themselves under the top portion of his thigh. "Have to admit I'm disappointed, Tenzou," Kakashi quietly said. "You of all people should know better than trying to make me turn on myself."

An inordinately pleased Hound barked out a laugh that sent chills down his spine; Yamato knew that laugh . . .  it was the one Hound favored whenever he stood over a vanquished enemy.  
"I gave you an opportunity to tell us the truth," he finally said. 

And as a leather gloved hand reached down to pick up the hairbrush right under his nose, the man behind the porcelain mask laughed again:

"You squandered your chance.

And now . . . it's my turn."

Notes:

Incongruity: not harmonious in character; inconsonant, lacking harmony of parts.

 


	5. Doble problema de Yamato (Yamato’s Double Trouble)

 

Sexual fantasies . . .

organic byproducts of intelligent design; images and sensations retrieved in an instant, when the physiological or psychological needs of the body demand a form of gratification, masturbation alone cannot satisfy.

Sexual fantasies . . .

Forbidden forays into another world; here, the unattainable object of one's desires is possessed, manipulated to do things completely out of character, or act in ways wildly uninhibited and utterly taboo in real life.

Sexual fantasies . . .

the gateway into a hedonistic wonderland of delights, a haven to indulge and repeatedly satisfy one's unspoken urges and unfulfilled needs.

*****     *****     *****

He’d spent the better part of his life underground, hidden away from the public; training, becoming a weapon for his village's defense. Weapons like him had no need for emotions, as nothing else mattered except completing a mission assigned.   Weapons, like him didn’t need or even deserve a proper name, for a weapon’s usefulness was only determined by how well it did the job.

It was a way of life, one he never asked for and never fit into, a lifestyle in which he was constantly ridiculed for being too soft-hearted or punished because of his underdeveloped lust for blood.

Surrounded by much older, far wiser and exceptionally powerful figures of masculine authority most of his childhood, he admired and strove to be like them, that he might find acceptance among them.

Daydreams became his shields, deflecting the rude stares and comments of his peers.

 _“You look like a girl … an ugly little girl at that,”_ they laughed in his face.

_“You ever seen this guy on the training fields?_

_His taijutsu and kenjutsu skills are for crap.”_

_“Yep, Lord Danzou’s wasting his time with that one,_

_he’ll never amount to much,”_ they muttered behind his back.

Nighttime whimsies, fueled by a vivid imagination, provided an outlet for those frustrations.

_One of these days ... I’ll show them all,_

he used to think as he tossed and turned on his narrow cot.

Visualizing himself an elite jounin, with throngs of the former naysayers surrounding him, clamoring for a spot on ‘his’ team, he’d drift off to sleep with a smile.

And then along came puberty

with its rapid changes in body and mind, a sloppy mix of hormones, angst and a new way of rebelling against that which he was powerless to change.  Right smack in the middle of all this inner turmoil is when he met

Hatake Kakashi.

A mere slip of a man-child himself; tall and spindly, with a shock of silvery hair that made him look older than he was. He had weird, captivating eyes - one grey, the other blood red and he always kept the lower half of his face concealed behind a fabric mask.

 _He’s a peculiar one,_ he remembered thinking the first time he saw him.  

In time he learned there was so much more beyond that oddly striking outward appearance.

Like him, Kakashi was a weapon, the last of his bloodline and the recipient of a kekkai genkai capable of taking his life. Both he and Kakashi trained diligently, overcoming their supposed handicaps.

But that’s where their similarities ended.

Regarded as a prodigy by many, Kakashi excelled in all arenas academic, holding his own with the so called intellectuals from a young age and far surpassing his peers in the ninja arts. A born leader, unconventional in his approach and extremely proficient too.  He complied with orders, as they suited his aesthetic; unafraid to speak his mind if he disagreed with the plan of action.   He followed his instincts, much to the consternation of his teammates and squad leaders when they proved spot on.

Yamato, an average student in the Academy, one who shied away from conversation in general, was a follower, trained to subdue emotion and squelch any instinct which diverted from his orders.   As to his skills in the other ninja arts - it was ‘catch as catch can.’ The focus of his training was, _Mokuton no jutsu_ in the hope he’d develop the skill needed to suppress the chakra of a tailed beast.  Even with the ardent coaching of Lord Danzou and the scroll of techniques left behind by the First Hokage, his competency with the jutsu paled in comparison. In the Foundation, disagreement with an assigned mission was unheard of; those who dared such a thing were swiftly and painfully punished.

Once set free of the Foundation and ushered into the ranks of the regular ANBU, his unchanging, orderly little world turned sideways.  

Kakashi became his squad leader and he immediately seized on those areas of Yamato’s weakness.  Routinely throwing him in the middle of an empty training ground, he wound up sparring with Maito Gai; getting his ass kicked a few times did wonders to improve his taijutsu skills.  Hours spent in secret with Kakashi and Yuhi Kurenai, saw his genjutsu abilities improve by leaps and bounds. And months of training under Kakashi’s watchful eye with some woman, whose identity he never knew, increased his skill with kenjutsu.

Through it all, Kakashi never looked at him as only a weapon; he dared see him as a person, one whose company he enjoyed, not just tolerated for the duration of a mission.  His captain routinely sought his advice on tactical strategies, employing his ideas in battle and giving him full credit in their official reports.

Most important of all, Kakashi trusted him.

He spent time getting to know him, learning about his likes and dislikes, his aspirations and fears and though it took a while, Yamato began seeing the world and himself through the eyes of his captain.  

Being highly regarded by his squad leader and having proved himself a capable shinobi, the whispers of his former Foundation colleagues behind his back were now rooted in jealousy.  And rightly so.  Theirs was an unlikely kinship, a bond of trust between misfits; one a loner by choice, the other a loner by circumstance.

Kakashi gave him something else that forever changed his life …

a sense of worth.

Unfortunately, it was around this time that sexual fantasies about his captain began insinuating themselves in his mind.

And then . . . there was Hound,

another side of Kakashi he’d come to accept; he understood all too well the necessity behind the alter ego’s existence. But the darkness that was Hound, called out to something deep within him, connecting with and drawing forth emotions difficult to classify.

Yamato found himself desperately wanting to shore up whatever was lacking in his captain that made Hound indispensable to Kakashi’s actuality; felt he had to be an anchor for the man who'd rescued him.

But it would never be so; Hound was a deeply embedded part of Kakashi – he’d never have one without the other.

Still, the maslin of personalities working in concert, brought them success on the field of battle; this same strange, symbiotic relationship ultimately forced him away from his captain, cutting his losses with the man who'd taught him to know and trust himself.

Kakashi gave him liberty to express his emotions – a wellspring of information was his captain on the subject, though reluctant to reveal his own.

Liberty became license; thinking of this man in ways which deviated from accepted norms.

Sexual fantasies . . .

These were the things which made his sojourn from puberty to adulthood hellish.

However, in the years spent apart from Kakashi, life experiences and maturity wrought self-control in the man formerly known as Kinoe; gone were the days when he was a slave to the lustful needs and insistent demands of his flesh.

He'd come to see his daydreams and sexual fantasies for what they were; a means to relieve the stresses of shinobi life

. . . nothing more.

Those years of lying to himself came to a head the moment he stepped over the threshold and into Kakashi's home; here in this place, where the embodiment of the improbable and the realization of the impossible stared him in the face, laughing at his fragility.

Here in this place, the depths of his shameful thoughts will be sifted through, pilfered and openly displayed before the eyes of the one man he never stopped idolizing.

For all the benefits daydreams and sexual fantasies previously afforded, tonight he realized the reason said fantasies should forever remain sequestered within the confines of the mind, never to come to pass whether by suggestion, coercion, or shaman's incantation.

 _Reality could never match what the mind can envision_ . . .

that’s what he used to think.

It was the elements of timing and control that made fantasies enthralling and rewarding; how fast or slow the action progressed, how fleeting or lingering the kisses, when or where a pinch or a touch, can and should be given or received. Moments of pleasure could be drawn out, paused, rewound or replayed as often as one's stamina permitted - these were the elements which turned random strings of sensations and images into experiences that altered one's religion.

Yet, when the same elements of timing and control are taken out of proper context or warped by the interference of real life, they could wreak havoc on one's psyche.

Sexual fantasies . . . a double-edged sword.

The world of his private pleasures compromised, complicated and destabilized by the not particularly unwelcome element of surprise.

Hound's physical manifestation in all his armor-clad glory, was a shock to his system to say the least.

Though his visage was obscured by the mask, the faintly familiar smell of blood and weapon oil clung to his clothing, hair and skin; his demeanor, hostile as usual and that voice, so clear and commanding – these things were part of another favorite sexual fantasy now come to life.

Juxtaposing the cold persona of Hound against the warmth of Kakashi's body, his bare face providing no clues of the thoughts running through his mind; the fragrances of cedar and clove oils clinging to his skin hours after the bath, the soothing weight of a cloth covered forearm casually draped over the small of his back . . . by the gods this was far beyond anything he ever dared imagine!    

Whenever his imagination ran wild, it selectively fixated either on Kakashi or Hound, never both at once, for fear his mind might implode or his body might give out if bombarded with that type of stimuli.

But this corporeal realism was the icing on the cupcake of every indecent thought he’d had since the dawn of puberty; here he was, in a threesome of sorts, caught up between these two compelling personas, wanting to yield himself to both - scared to death of what his or their reactions would be should he be forced to choose between them.

If he made it out of this house tonight mentally unscathed, it would be a miracle.

 _Hound … Kakashi … me_ , he thought. _It’s too much._

His eyes slide closed just for a second, long enough to recall the initial awkwardness he felt when Hound’s critical eye skimmed over his body; too stunned was he and too aroused to speak when the hands he’d used to shield his private parts were slapped away.

He swallowed hard, remembering the giddy, goose pimply sensations as Hound cupped, weighed and gently squeezed the tender flesh of his scrotum.   A thrill shot up his spine upon recalling those same slender digits raking through the thick, brown hair on his head; the sounds of his own guttural, lust filled gasps of pain as they reverberated around the sparsely furnished room made him weak in the knees.  Even now, he could still feel the cool impression of Hound's pitted metal shin guards, grinding into his febrile back; that alone almost pushed him over the brink.

The sense of utter humiliation when Hound gruffly spoke, threatening to take matters into his own hands left him breathless and uncomfortably hard.

And the fact Hound didn't give a damn about the discomfort he caused, merely ramped up his desire, making him hungrier for more abuse from that ruthless man. Finally, having been thrust across a waiting lap, he remembered wholeheartedly embracing the bite of the rough cotton material covering Kakashi's thighs, the fabric that scratched at his erection, rudely rolling back the foreskin and exposing hypersensitive flesh beneath; the exquisite twinge of pain and the unexpected surge of satisfaction, once more threatened to bring him to a shuddering orgasm.

Fortunately, he had the presence of mind back then to slightly lift his hips; that was the only thing that kept him from rutting against his captain’s thighs.

All he could do after the urge lessened, was hope Kakashi wouldn't see or couldn't feel the thin trail of pre-ejaculate dribbled and smeared across the dark material.

That was the other thing about sexual fantasies

and why they should never be acted out.

Their appeal, their beauty, lay in their simplicity . . . but this present reality was too messy due to the emotional attachments to both Kakashi and Hound.

_Damn it!_

_I'm not sure how much more of this I can take!_

Lost, trapped inside a world not of his making, he desperately wished for freedom from these peculiar and prodigious feelings, all the while hankering for the sensual captivity this world offered.  He kept fighting, struggling to reject these experiences, fearing they'd fade away were he to surrender himself completely.

Hound's presence, as an 'overseer,’ a witness to his chastisement, muddied the waters further but made one thing crystal clear.

He'd never outgrown the childlike, intense yearning for Hound's approval . . . as a shinobi and as a man.

Thus, he steeled himself, determined to face his discipline with a dignity and stoicism sure to earn Hound's respect.

That determination faltered, vanished without a trace, the moment Hound reached for the hairbrush.

White-knuckled, stomach twisting, blind panic was all that remained.  As far as he could tell, the 'overseer' was about to cross an invisible boundary, from 'witness' to active participant.

Animalistic lust boiled down right then and there,

condensing itself into a base, almost feral instinct to survive.

Notes:

Kenjutsu: techniques involving the use of swords.

Whimsy: odd or fanciful notion.

Maslin: a mixture or medley.

Kekkai genkai:  natural abilities genetically passed down through a family.

Mokuton no jutsu (Wood Style): a combined nature transformation kekkai genkai which originated within the Senju clan. Using an earth based technique with one hand and water based techniques with the other, this jutsu can create wood (trees) as well as plants from any surface including the user’s body.  This ability was coveted by many as it also allowed the user to restrain and control the chakra of a tailed beast and by extension, its jinchuriki host.

An organization within Konoha (the Foundation) sought the Mokuton no jutsu’s power to overthrow the ninja system, first in the Land of Fire and ultimately, the Five Shinobi Nations.  To this end, Kinoe, along with sixty other children were injected with the DNA extracted from Hashirama Senju, the only person then known to possess the Wood Style ability.  Of these sixty children, Kinoe/Tenzou was the sole survivor.  Hashirama left behind a scroll filled with techniques based on this ability, which Lord Danzou (the leader of the Foundation), obtained by nefarious means; he then passed along the scroll to Kinoe/Tenzou.  

Symbiotic: having an interdependent relationship.

Prodigious: wonderful or marvelous.

 


	6. Time Out Before We Twist and Shout

Fear held him in its icy grip, a dense mental fog supplanted reason.

He was like a wild rabbit with its hind leg caught in a steel trap, as two hungry eagles circle overhead. He could either gnaw off the ensnared appendage, and limp away for cover, (impossible), or remain trapped, crying out in distress (unthinkable), until the sharp talons of the hunters elevated him to a loftier height of agony or mercifully put him out of his misery.

Either way, he was dead meat.

Easy pickings for the amusement of swift, deadly predators; soon to become a tasty appetizer.

He knew from experience, any implement in Kakashi's hands would be employed firmly, purposely and yet with a measure of forbearance; his intents … addressing and correcting inappropriate behavior to ensure future compliance with his standards and rules. He’d chose his words carefully, conveying his displeasure without taking away his confidence, giving added emphasis to every stinging stroke of the paddle, or every searing lash of the tawse.

He could deal with that.

But it would not be so with Hound. Any implement in his hands, would turn into a weapon of full out devastation; Hound's intent was always to brutalize; his words of choice, demoralizing and emotionally crippling.

_Yep, I gotta get the hell outta here!_

A spike of adrenaline rushed through his body, actuating sweaty palms to slam against the floor, pushing his body upward, maneuvering himself away from his captain’s body.

This cloddish attempt at freedom was met with a deep throated chortle from Hound and an exasperated sigh from Kakashi, no other expression of resistance came from either man; that alone made his frantic flailing about cease.

He had to save his strength for whatever flagitious scheme they’d agreed upon.

The heavy arm loosely holding him in place, lifted from his lower back, moving slowly upward as Kakashi's fingers trailed a heated path along his hip, skimming past his waist and his side until it reached his upper back; it was there the warm hand came to rest between tense shoulder blades. Calloused fingertips inched further upward, gently kneading the top of his shoulder, while the other hand lazily drifted over the smooth rounded, flesh of his buttocks and the back of his thighs; occasionally, blunt cut nails lightly scratched at the ticklish spot behind his knees before moving down his leg.

Like molten lava, his captain’s disingenuous words of consolation cut a swath of lucidity through the tangled web of his thoughts.

“Calm yourself, Tenzou” he whispered. “Hound isn't going to hurt you."

As if he could believe those slippery words, vapid containers of perjured commiseration; this was just Kakashi doing what he did best … lulling him into a false sense of security.

He’d have to be cagier, more deceptive and quicker than his mentor to gain necessary leverage.

Wriggling closer to his target, he exaggerated his simpering movements, purposely letting Kakashi feel him relax under his touch; what a surprise it was when his captain relaxed in kind.

He wasn't proud of what he was about to do next, yet he was sure Kakashi would understand and later appreciate that the means, crude as they were, would find justification in the end.

There was only one way to break a low level genjutsu like this . . . inflicting sudden and extremely sharp pain on the one casting the illusion. Kakashi's ankle was so close to his face, he could see his pulse. He'd bide his time, catch his captain off-guard for a nanosecond and launch a surprise attack. A bite, right at the junction where Achilles tendon met heel would effectively shatter the illusion, dispatch Hound to his rightful place and buy him enough time to break free and reason with an angry Kakashi.

Until he could make a decisive move, he'd content himself letting Kakashi believe he was still in control.

"As for you Hound,” he heard him say while he continued the impromptu massage, “I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't tease him. You know Tenzou takes everything you say and do quite literally."

The mild rebuke gave the other man pause, but it wasn't as if Hound was altogether silent.

Above him came the faint noise of something solid and wooden, methodically slamming against a flat surface. Naturally, it piqued his interest and he lifted his head warily.

He should’ve known better.

The heavy antique, rosewood hairbrush, it's highly polished obverse side tapped out a message in shinobi code against Hound's leather covered palm.

" **Your ass … my canvas**

**on which to play …**

**With this … a mosaic of pain**

**will I lay."**

or so went the code.

As Hound eased himself closer to eye level, his white cloak fanned out and folded behind him like an accordion's bellows. Suddenly, the red and black trimmed eye holes of the dog mask blurred together in his line of sight. His breath, moist and halting, blew back into his face when Hound pressed closer; a gruff laugh issued forth from the masked man.

"Yeah Kakashi," he said. "I know he does."

Hound drew away slowly, pleased with himself for provoking a look of absolute terror in Yamato’s eyes. "It's a damn shame," he said. "The more things change . . . the more they stay the same, eh, Kakashi?"

Once more, the sound of wood tapping against leather ricocheted off the room’s walls.

Tap . . . Tap . . . Tap.

"You just take care of your end, Kakashi."

Tap . . . Tap . . . Tap.

"And I'll take care of mine."

_I gotta do this now, he thought, before things get out of hand!_

The noise of the hairbrush ceased and before he could blink twice, that gloved hand moved toward his face - he flinched away, but it was too late. Hound held him by the chin, pulling him closer; a solitary, steel grey eye shimmering with gleeful and malicious intent.

"Well . . . Yamato," he hissed, "since you'd like me and Kakashi to believe you're incapable of maintaining focus - what say we play a little game?"

_A game? What fresh hell is this?_

Ignoring the confrontation unfolding mere inches away, Kakashi's hand merrily skipped along the lower half of his body, creating a vastly different sort of tension than the one he sought to alleviate.

Meanwhile, Hound's manhandling, his not so subtle threats and nonverbal taunts were inciting anxiety even as they rekindled the embers of arousal.

_How the devil do these insufferable pricks expect me to concentrate on anything apart from their actions?_

When a bony elbow lazily pressed into a nerve cluster in the middle of his back, he paid it no mind. Acupressure was Kakashi's small concession for his physical comfort and a telling indicator of how long a session across his knee would last.

All of a sudden, he couldn't feel a thing from the middle of his back to the top of his shoulders. His captain’s other hand still meandering, still stroking its way over his body. He couldn’t sense the tactile experience of Kakashi's arm falling across his left shoulder, he could only look on in stunned silence as that pale hand stretched out to take possession of the hairbrush.

_Sweet Kami!_

_He's not gonna start with that thing, is he?_

_You rat bastard!_

_What the fuc-?_

"Tenzou, chill out," Kakashi said with a chuckle. A playful slap to his right buttock startled him and elicited another chuckle. “I'm just gonna lay the hairbrush right here, in the middle of your back while I explain the rules of our game." Another playful slap on the bottom and another to the back of his thigh; neither was intended to cause pain, only to capture his attention.

The teasing lilt in Kakashi's voice was more terrifying than Hound's closeness.

 _This isn't going to end well,_ he thought, inching away from the masked man.

"It's a fairly simple game, Tenzou. While I 'take care of my end,' Hound is gonna ask you a series of questions, which you'll answer truthfully and in a timely manner. And since I'm doing much of the heavy lifting here, all you have to do is keep the hairbrush from falling to the floor."

 _So that's why . ._ .

“How the hell am I supposed to do that? You know I can’t feel the damn thing! And if I can’t feel it, I can't balance it and I damn sure can't stop it from slipping. That's not fair Kaka--"

"Now, now, you're a smart kid, I'm confident … you'll figure something out."

"Humph . . . now do you see," Hound snapped, "now do you understand what years of leniency spawn, Kakashi?

A loud-mouthed brat who still hasn't learned how to address his superiors properly, one who takes liberties and - -"

"Settle down Hound-san . . . I got this."

Unintentional as it might have been, a wry smirk flashed across his lips; sure, one or both of them would make him pay for it later, but what the hell, he'd savor the moment Kakashi brought Hound to heel for as long as he could.

Turns out the enjoyment factor had a three second lifespan.

Jerking his chin upward, Hound said, "You oughta be glad I'm letting Kakashi deal with you, boy. I would’ve had you screechin’ like a banshee long before now."

 _All right … time to regroup,_ he told himself.

Casting an awkward glance over his shoulder, he whispered, "Kakashi . . . sir … I'm sorry. Lost my head for a minute. Forgive my insubordination.” Turning back, he addressed Hound likewise, dipping his head in submission. " Hound-san … I'm sorry … please forgive me."

The movement of his head, which Hound so readily allowed and thoroughly enjoyed, brought him parallel with Kakashi's ankle once more.

_I have to do this . . . for his own good as well as mine._

_Can't believe this idiot is willing to burn through his chakra reserves_

_just to get a point across!_

A black hand stood between him and his intended target. "Don't even think about it boy," said the wily Hound. "Never forget, we'll always be three steps ahead of you."

By this time, Hound was comfortably seated on the floor beside the open box of implements, his arms hugging his knees, his body language exuding excitement like a child pumped full of sugar and primed to watch his favorite cartoon shows on a homework-free Saturday morning.

"Let’s get down to business," he said, "before my patience runs out or before he tries something stupider." Raising Tenzou’s head again, this time with both hands cradling his jaws, Hound's elbows were propped up on his knees, all the better to look him square in the eyes.

"I made a promise to get the truth out of you one way or another and you know I always keep my promises don'tcha, boy?"

That sinister laugh rising deep within Hound's chest like an exploding tag, sizzled as it whipped past his ears; it was the satisfied laugh of a man who reveled in extracting information in the most painful ways imaginable.

It cut him to the quick.

_Kakashi would never permit physical torture_

_especially when mental anguish would suffice … would he?_

"You haven't forgotten the most important aspect of the game, have you, Kakashi? We don’t want to keep him in suspense, so go on then, tell him about the penalty phases."

Kakashi took his sweet time, as he was want to do, readjusting his kohai’s limbs into optimal position, tapping at his calves as a subtle reminder to straighten his legs and point his toes in preparation for punishment. When he was finally ready, the full weight of his forearm pressed into the small of Yamato's back, and his hand aligned itself along the side of his right thigh; the atmosphere in the room shifted, the very air itself thickened, making it harder to breathe.

Without warning, his captain's lackadaisical posture and that easy going demeanor peeled away, revealing his captain as the imposing, austere, and exacting disciplinarian.

"Listen up," he snapped, his voice distant and flat. "There are two penalty phases of the game. In the first one, should the hairbrush fall to the floor, you 'll pick it up and put it in my hand. Twenty . . . that's the minimum number of penalty strokes you'll receive each time the brush falls. You'll count off each stroke for me, nice and loud, I’ll return the hairbrush to its former place, and your punishment will continue. Each time the hairbrush falls thereafter, the tally of strokes increases by ten."

The voice of his team leader, issuing commands to be carried out without question; his judgment keen, his edict absolute. There would be no turning back, no possible way of breaking through the citadel of his strident resolution.

“Do you understand what the first phase of your punishment entails, Tenzou?”

Swallowing down the gigantic lump of anxiety in his throat, he nodded. "Yes sir."

"If you refuse to answer a question or if you answer a question falsely, phase two of your punishment kicks in. In this phase, Hound selects an implement from the box to reward your disobedience; he’ll decide the number and severity of the strokes you receive. If you still refuse to cooperate after that point, he’ll select another implement and we'll keep things going until you're ready to respond correctly."

A deep, cleansing breath, another defeated nod of the head. "Yes, I understand sir."

"Hmm . . . you know," said Hound, "I’d take it as a personal affront and it should be considered a breach of the rules if your boy were to close his eyes at any time during his punishment. Ah yes,” he said, lifting Tenzou’s chin, “these expressive eyes of his gave away his plan to injure you Kakashi; we certainly don’t want to repeat that mistake, do we? Besides, I don’t want to miss a single flicker of fear or pain that’s gonna cloud up those pretty brown eyes.”

"Noted," Kakashi said after a beat. “I'm disappointed he tried such a thing."

"Don't you think that little escapade is worthy of its own penalty, Kakashi? I mean, here we are trying to help him concentrate on one thing at a time and that’s how he shows appreciation for our efforts … I’m embarrassed for him."

"Excellent point, Hound-san. But I wonder, what sort of penalty should we assign for such a grievous assault on your aesthetics, not to mention the attempted assault on my person?"

One of Hound's hands retained its grip on Yamato’s jaw, while the other burrowed under his cloak.

 _A regulation ANBU utility pouch, one used to carry small scrolls, extra shuriken, medicine or a whetstone,_ he thought _. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to fear_.

_"Are you crazy," his mind interjected, "don't you know nothing about Hound is ordinary?"_

Having located the item, he slowly raised it to Yamato's eye level that he might examine it for himself. "As luck would have it," Hound said, "I brought along a few items sure to make things more . . . interesting. With your permission Kakashi, I reserve the right to bring these 'items' into play at my discretion." Leaning closer, he whispered in the captive man’s ear, "Whether I use them for your punishment or as an incentive for continued good behavior solely depends on you."

"Very well, you have my permission. Tenzou, do you have any questions for me or Hound-san?"

"No sir ... no further questions."

There was a bone chilling pause, time to reflect, to prepare himself for the inevitable and painful first contact of a firm palm against his flesh.

"If you're ready Hound,” he heard Kakashi say, “let’s begin."

Laying the utility pouch atop the open box of implements with one hand and lifting Yamato’s head higher with the other, he asked:

 

 

"Now then, boy. . . what shall we talk about?"

 

Notes:

Flagitious:  shamefully wicked.

 

 


	7. Time Out Before We Twist and Shout (Part Two)

A/N: I felt so bad for the predicament we’ve left Yamato/Tenzou in; he's given up as there is no escape from his 'captors,' he’s given himself over, realizing this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to indulge a long held sexual fantasy.  He’s set to endure the pain to extrapolate this experience of Kakashi and Hound together, doing as they please with his body and spin it into an embellished memory to enjoy as often as he pleases.

Come; let us explore Yamato’s reflections and cognitive processes while the poor dear can still think straight. 

* * *

In the span of a sneeze, a time-honored ritual was turned on its ear.

In times past whenever I found myself in this position, I vowed never to let it happen again; a prime example of youthful rebellion against the inescapable. It took me a while to figure it out, but the only way I knew how to keep that promise was by enforced separation from Kakashi/Hound; separation only made it easier to idealize the man/monster. I came to dread those times when my mind wasn’t engaged with something productive, even my dreams weren’t safe from his intrusion.

Twelve years pass and we’re thrown together on a whim of the Hokage.

Four days and one stupid mistake later and here I am again . . . a grown man, stripped naked, splayed across the lap of my commanding officer as I prepare myself to receive punishment better suited to a disobedient child.

Guess Hound was partially right. The more things change; the more they stay the same.

Well . . . not exactly.

In times past, Kakashi would have succinctly stated his disapproval, enumerated the reasons why this form of correction was the only one appropriate, and the rump blistering would have commenced straight away.

No games, no penalty phases and no spectators to my humiliation most certainly.

And now the infamous Hound, two-legged demon dog from the lowest parts of hell manifests in the flesh to witness this private moment, to voice his approval of my chastisement . . . to laugh me to scorn as Kakashi doles out his brand of reckoning for my error.

Remarkable … in the field, I knew to expect the unexpected from Hound; that’s what made him a fearsome opponent, an unorthodox leader, able to out think and outmaneuver our enemies. Kakashi’s the same way of course, but in him there’s a fount of human kindness, unknown by Hound.

In the field, Kakashi favored quick, silent and merciful kills whereas Hound enjoyed taunting his foes with imaginative and often, perverse methods of psychological and physical torture; the hair-raising screams of his enemies -- a symphony to his ears.

I can only imagine how thrilled he’ll be if Kakashi’s actions can drag the same type of ‘music’ from me.

Here in this place, on familiar ground . . . trapped between them, I know it’s unwise to trust either of them. Between Kakashi’s attempts to dulcify me, kneading my flesh that he might cuittle my nerves and muscles into relaxation and Hound silently threatening, dragooning me into submission with his fixed gaze and utility pouch filled with nefarious instruments . . .

I fear it equally unwise to trust myself.

Hound is an extremely volatile entity, a being whose fuse grows shorter as the years roll on. He had and still has, little patience for acts of kindness and a lesser degree of tolerance for those who can’t mentally keep pace with him, or physically stomach his gruesome ways. It’s no wonder then our comrades and even the Sandaime Hokage were amazed when Hound insisted I remain a permanent part of his squad all those years.

Of course, why wouldn’t he keep me by his side?

I was the ‘sacrificial lamb’ thrown out into an open field to appease the rapacious wolf.

Those higher up the chain in ANBU command feared Hound, like a ferocious animal, would someday break free of Kakashi’s ability to hold him in check.  They’d investigated numerous means to put him down should that day ever come. Given my familiarity with him, that job was secretly foisted onto me.

But they misjudged my willingness to carry out a direct order; they also underestimated the strength of Kakashi’s mental faculties, as well as my respect for Kakashi and my fear of Hound.

Back then, I was eager to learn, too obedient for my own good and completely star struck by the legend and the man.

I was but a lump of clay and he, Kakashi/Hound the potter.

Hound spun me about, molded me into his own image of what a shinobi should be; he plucked out perceived impurities with the pointed forceps of his words and left the physical discipline of my body in the hands of his alternate persona.

Kakashi smoothed away my inherent imperfections with the palm of his hand or the flat planes of a wide paddle.  Anything that would make me shatter in the heated kiln of battle had to be purged; igniting a fire at the root, or rather the seat of the reluctance was the only way Kakashi believed I could learn.

And when it came to ‘smoothing out my imperfections,’ Kakashi always adhered to a pattern of behavior, both predictable and comforting.

The implements of correction, were selected in advance and neatly arranged in the order in which Kakashi would use them. The arrangement of the implements and the materials from which they were constructed, signified the severity of the discipline or punishment he’d administer and the position I was required to assume.

Short leather implements alone, meant I’d be over Kakashi’s knee for the duration; longer leather implements like the razor strop or the tawse meant I was to bend forward at the waist with my palms on the seat of the chair; this position let Kakashi to move about me freely, providing a wider arc for each powerful strike.

I preferred those times when the short leather implements were on display—it meant Kakashi wasn’t truly angry with me; more importantly it meant I’d be in constant contact with his body. These were _disciplinary_ or as he called it, ‘attitude adjustment’ sessions he used to address areas of laziness, such as my timidity when sparring with him or as a reminder to mind my tone of voice when addressing a superior officer.

In between vigorous swats, there would be conversation . . . of a sort; he’d lightly scold me and I’d give choked out explanations for my actions or lack thereof.

Once the discipline session was over, I was expected to kneel before him, to apologize and then thank him for the correction provided. Afterwards, I literally sprinted home, stripped off my clothes as soon as my front door locked behind me and straight to the bathroom I ran, leaving bits and pieces of uniform where ever they happened to fall.

I can still remember how good it felt; easing my burning backside against the cool, slick tiles of the bathroom with my cock in my hand. As I stood there with my eyes closed, I’d slowly stroke myself back to hardness, replaying Kakashi’s words in my mind. Orgasm, quick and powerful overtook me sooner than I wanted and subsequently, I’d stumble into the shower to wash away the shame . . . the proof of my desire for him.

Crawling into bed those nights, exhausted and yet strangely unfulfilled, I’d toss and turn for hours before drifting off to sleep.

_By the gods, I was so pathetic back then._

Yet, if I’m honest, the times when Kakashi opted for more strident correction, were the most satisfying.

Wooden implements of various lengths and thicknesses lying beside the chair or directly in front of it meant I’d violated one of his cardinal rules and all hopes for leniency should be promptly abandoned.

No words passed between us before, during or after; this was punishment on a myriad of levels. Only the repetitious sharp snap of the hairbrush or paddles and the frequent hisses of pain as my sweaty palms slid across the seat of the old wooden chair -- these were the only sounds permitted within the boundaries of Kakashi’s living room.

Time came to a standstill on this merry go round of exquisite agony, but once the paddle or hairbrush fell for the last time, Kakashi would walk away from me, expecting that I’d dress quickly and remove myself from his residence.

Knowing I’d pushed Kakashi to take such drastic measures, hurt more than the combined strikes my body absorbed.

An emotional wreck, that’s what I was when I left a punishment session; regret inundated my mind and weighed heavy on my heart.

I always took my time walking home those nights – that I might agnize my error . . . that I might savor the pain inflicted; my thighs crisscrossed with stripes from the ruler or the switch, my ass, swollen and tender from the heavy-handed strikes of dense, unyielding wood. And as I slowly made my way home, I feared my engorged cock would burst through my pants.

Every excruciating step toward home reinforced the determination to get my act together, that Kakashi might not have to revisit this form of chastisement in the future.

Every excruciating step toward my home made my body quiver as I imagined what it might feel like . . . Kakashi’s nails digging into my hips as he pounded me from behind, his hips slamming against the tender skin of my ass; his balls colliding with mine as he fucked out every bit of the frustrations I’d heaped upon him until my eyes crossed in pleasurable pain.

When my front door closed, and locked behind me after a session of punishment, I too followed a predictable pattern of behavior which mortified, frightened and exhilarated me.

I always headed straight for the bedroom where I retrieved a small tube of lubricant from the nightstand before I undressed. Flopping down on the hard surface of the bed, I’d grind my hips into the knotty fabric of the comforter; my mind randomly supplying the loud, swishing sounds of long, thin paddles or the cane slicing through the air as I relived every stroke Kakashi had precisely laid across my ass and the backs of my thighs.

At some point, I couldn’t take the memories any longer; the desires of my body screamed out that I take an active part in gratifying its needs.

Fumbling for the lubricant beside me, I’d squeeze out a healthy dollop of the viscous substance into the palm of my left hand, dipping the fingers of my other hand into the cool creamy goo, warming it to body temperature.

A deep tremulous breath and then a slow, steady breach of my puckered entrance; the momentary sting as one and then both fingers slipped inside would ease as I imagined the smooth, beet red head of my captain’s cock nudging me open. Warm, tight heat constricted around my fingers as they inched forward, searching for that tiny cluster of nerves; with the searing, constant ache of a well paddled bottom against the coarse, decorative material of the bedspread, my straining cock ached to be stroked.

I never understood why orgasm took so long to arrive after that; perhaps the numerous sensations I experienced were too much for my overheated brain to process . . . perhaps I was too caught up in the imagery of Kakashi’s pale, naked body angrily rutting against my olive skin as I gave myself to him. Fervent stroking quickened and when my fingers finally bumped against that hidden area of pleasure, my release was explosive.

My body wildly convulsed, jerking me inches off the mattress as ribbons of hot, salty cum splattered against my chest and chin; my tongue greedily lapping up traces of my own essence as I imagined it was Kakashi’s. My fingers, constrained by spasmodic contractions were pushed from their tight prison and fell with a thump against the bedspread, right before I drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep.

Tonight, however, Kakashi strayed far from our ritual; things were much too quiet in the tiny living room.

Hound sat before me, demanding an answer to a simple question too complex for my feverish mind to understand . . . too damning for my lips to utter.

  “What’s it gonna be, boy?” I heard Hound say when he jerked my chin upward.

“Answer me. . . what the hell was so fascinating that it took your mind off the mission?”

 

Notes:

Cuittle: cajole, coax.

Dragoon: to force by oppressive measures, coerce.

Agnize: recognize, acknowledge, own up to.

 


	8. Twist and Shout

_Though my tongue is cloven to the roof of my mouth . . . still they expect me to speak._

_Though my mind has shifted into neutral, spinning its wheels, no traction on lucidity,_

_still they insist I provide answers to their queries, so pointed and exact._

_Control over the evolutionary responses of my body and the involuntary reactions of my physical being, these I do not have . . . these will become the source of their mockery, the subjects of their intense analysis and appraisal._

_Kakashi’s hands roam over my body, relaxing muscles tensed in anticipation . . . they warm me, sparking a fire deep within. All the while, Hound levels a cold, threatening gaze on me from behind an expressionless mask; his eyes, permafrost stilettos follow in the path of my captain's hands, plunging me into an ice bath of terror, leaving me frozen in fear. Every so often during their aimless journey, the pads of my captain's fingers dip between my cheeks; lingering there for a split second, long enough to wring a sharp grunt or squeeze a surprised gasp from me as my hips rise and fall of their own accord._

_It was an accident … a simple mistake,_

that's what he told himself each time those teasing strokes swept past his quivering hole.

 _“Bulllshit,”_ screamed the voice inside his head. _“Kakashi never makes ‘simple’ mistakes; he knows exactly how you feel about him, he knows what you want from him and you know, he’ll never give it to you. Face it … Kakashi is an unrepentant pervert, an unrepentant heterosexual pervert.  He wanders the streets of the village reading paperback books chock full of lurid tales of men taking liberties with, fondling, licking and screwing women for god’s sake! _

_Let’s not embarrass ourselves further by reading anything into this.”_

Suddenly, the very idea of anyone, male or female, seeing, touching or receiving Kakashi’s cock in any way, sent a chill down his spine and a froward tightness in the pit of his stomach, as he purposely elevated his hips and spread his legs a mite wider.

“ _Come on damn it, keep it together,”_

cautioned the small portion of his mind not eaten away by fleshly desire.

In truth, he’d already sped through the roadblocks of caring about anything, other than what was happening right now.

Not knowing what might happen from one minute to the next, sharpened his apprehension – knowing for certain his every move was being documented by the watchful Hound, honed his arousal, making his cock harder by the second. And knowing that Kakashi/Hound would do as they pleased for as long as they pleased, made it easier to ignore the warning screaming inside his mind.

 Self-preservation and dignity be damned!

 _That settles it . . . I’ve finally gone round the bend_ ,’ he thought, as a minuscule portion of his mind projected Kakashi as a master calligrapher, seated at his work bench, preparing his body like a rare piece of parchment. The heat of his captain’s hands, smoothing the surface of his skin, conditioning it to receive and retain the missive of chastisement he intended to imprint – to absorb the weight of the precise strokes which were soon to follow. And just as that master calligrapher would do, he knew his captain was unwilling to lay down a single stroke until all was in order.

On the other hand, Hound’s disintegrating patience and his overarching desire to mete out retribution for the crime committed was like a raging fire – wildly destructive, licking at the edges of the priceless parchment – eager to engulf and devour it . . . to reduce it to a worthless pile of ashes.

Out of the blue, a harsh slap to his cheek and the salty taste of blood on his tongue snatched him back to reality.

“Don’t you dare ignore me!” Hound snarled.

“I wasn’t . . . err, I didn’t sir,” he clumsily lied.

The sound of wood splintering, the rapid release of dust particles and grit sent a skin crawling cringe shooting through him when Hound’s fist impacted an area of the floor to his left.

 _Son of a bitch_ , he inwardly sighed when he saw the small crater under Hound’s knuckles.  _I bet they’re gonna make me fix that before I leave_.

 “Hound-san . . . let’s not be hasty,” he heard Kakashi say, his fingers skating along a trembling hip. “You’re frightening my kohai.”

From Hound’s belly rumbled a baleful laugh and through one of the slits in his mask, a stormy grey eye scanned the entirety of Yamato’ blanched face.

“If he’s just frightened . . . then I’m not doing my job correctly,” he said. “ Nah, he couldn’t possibly be afraid of little old me; … if he was, he would have answered the question the first time I asked.  Maybe your boy’s too stupid to be afraid, yea . . . that’s it.”

"I'll have you know Tenzou is an extremely intelligent --”

“Don’t bet on it,” he said jerking the other man’s jaw upward. “If he had any sense at all . . . he’d be scared shitless.” Calfskin covered fingers acted like a squeegee, driving down the sheen of sweat covering his throat as Yamato anxiously swallowed. “And speaking of spineless little shits . . . quit being a pussy, Kakashi and just beat his ass!”

The hand tracing small circles over his kohai’s flank stilled; a gentle blast of warm breath blew across the small of his back when Kakashi slowly exhaled. “Hound-san,” he said as his hands resumed their meandering ways, “I assure you . . . Tenzou will pay dearly for --”

“And when exactly is that gonna happen; tomorrow . . . next week sometime?”

That teasing lilt, the one that spoke volumes of untold mayhem crept into Kakashi's voice again when he said, "Anger clouds sound judgment and blinds the eye to other, more interesting alternatives. Perhaps if you settle down and listen closely Hound-san, you’d realize I have a plan--”

“I’m warning you, it better not be some candy assed way of coddling this little caitiff or I swear to the gods --”

“You’ve got to relax,” he quietly laughed. “Pace yourself. Why, at this rate you’ll work yourself into a thick lather and burn through your scant supply of energy in no time. Surely you don’t want to leave me with a surplus of your wrath without a proper way to expend it, do you, Hound-san?”

Kakashi’s hand slowly floated across the unblemished skin of Yamato’s thighs; Hound’s knuckles cracked and popped each time he clenched his fists.

 “You’re starting to piss me off too,” he said when the fingers of his other hand dangerously tightened under Yamato’s jaw again. “After what he did . . . damn near got me killed --”

“Trust me, I understand what could have happened because of his penchant for woolgathering. And I know full well you want to inflict as much pain as you possibly can in the shortest amount of time. However,” he said as his blunt fingernails skimmed over the space behind Yamato’s knee, “one of us has to be practical.”

“I could give a flyin' fuck about practical!  What I don't understand is why? Why,” he spat, jerking Yamato’s head upward by a hank of hair, “after all he's done . . . why the hell are you trying to protect him?"

A blind man could see Hound was teetering on the verge on insanity; a man unable to hear could feel the enraged vibrations in Hound’s voice as he spoke.

Despite his captain's attempts to inject reason into this situation, Hound was about to step over the line set for him, for he was a being given to fits of misology that neither heaven’s angels nor hell’s demons could sway him from.  How well Yamato knew that whenever Hound set his mind to something it always ended with the spilling of blood.

 Once more, the urge to flee resurrected.

"Think about it for a second,” Kakashi said. “If you give him have a heart attack before we’ve even begun, you’ll never have a chance to use any of those . . . ‘incentives’ from your utility pouch.”  As Hound seethed, Kakashi lazily kneaded those fleshy buttocks.  “Rushing him to the emergency room, having to explain why he was buck naked in my home in the first place . . . I dare say that would put a serious damper on our fun . . . don’t you agree?”

While the silent war of wills raged over him, Yamato couldn’t be bothered to figure out what the concept of ‘fun’ meant to these two. Instead, he did what he did best, drinking in the sensations impregnating the atmosphere in the room – the tension sparking like fireworks between these diverging personas; the homicidal vibes exuding from Hound and the quiet steadfastness, like a barricade which surrounded his taichou. It was as if he were standing knee deep in a warm, tranquil pond; Kakashi upstream like a dry rotted wooden dam, straining to hold back the deluge of Hound’s ire like violent, frothing waves. Soon . . . very soon, the churning, brackish waters of Hound’s frustration would burst through his captain's arguments, leaving both of them gasping for breath as Hound surged over them . . . suffocating them with the unearthly power of his rash choler.

 _May the gods have mercy on my soul_ , he thought as he hung in limbo, tangled in the netting of their silence. _I want nothing more than to sop up Hound’s fury like a sun-dried sponge._

A low growl from deep within Hound’s throat shattered the glass like quiet.

"Fine,” he said with a snort. “I’ll go along with you to a point, Kakashi, but to prevent you two little pussies from spoiling my fun, I’m adding my own twist.”

“I’ll allow it,” his captain said with a smile.

Releasing the hank of hair from his death grip, Hound shouted,

“Lift your hips, boy!”

Apparently, he was moving too slow for Hound’s liking.  Another sharp slap landed across his right buttock.

“Quit dickin’ around and move, boy!”

This time, he was up on his toes and the tips of his fingers before he could blink, grateful for his captain's arm pressing against his ribs as he steadied the hairbrush in place.

Of course, Hound wouldn’t let that act of kindness go unnoticed.

“Seriously?  The hell's the matter with you tonight, Kakashi?"

There was a slight shift in his captain's upper body as he shrugged his shoulders. “All things in due time, Hound-san; we’re going to be fair and reasonable, remember?”

As Hound held his chin aloft, Yamato tracked the movement of his right arm as it slowly reached for the pouch below him.

There was a loud _snap_ as the pouch was brusquely opened . . . the _shushing_ sound of heavy canvas came next, as its cover slapped against the floor. Then came the rattle of metallic objects shifting against each other as Hound rummaged through his kit. It was at once nerve wracking and exciting, until, a toe-curling, evil laugh snaked under the dog mask the moment Hound gathered up whatever it was that he was looking for.

Fluidly rising to his feet, the black leather sandals were a blur in Yamato’s peripheral vision. Morbid curiosity compelled him, awkwardly straining his neck that he might catch a glimpse of the objects Hound held; the white cloak concealed the plundered supplies. Meanwhile, Kakashi attempted to distract him, his fingers dancing along, tickling at the right side of his body.

Uncooperative legs violent shook, the second Hound took up a position behind him; in one sweeping motion, he felt Hound swat away Kakashi’s gentle hand before another searing slap landed across his left buttock.  Hound dug his nails into a mound of quivering flesh while his other hand reached between Yamato’s parted thighs.  
Without so much as a ‘by your leave,’ slender fingers wrapped themselves around the loose skin of his scrotum … squeezing and crushing his balls together, capturing errant pubic hairs as Hound twisted and pulled his sac lower.  The unmanly squeal garnered a devilish round of laughter from his captors and sent a wave of heated embarrassment scrabbling up to his already reddening facial cheeks.

“On second thought,” Hound said, as he backed away from them, “Stand to your feet, boy.”

Quick as you please, Kakashi took hold of the hairbrush; a warm arm, loosely draped around his waist was the only thing that kept Yamato from falling over.

“I’m gonna say this real slow, so even you can understand it,” thundered Hound’s voice against his back as he shakily stood.

“Thank you, sir,” he said as his eyes readjusted to the dim light of the room.

“Take a few steps to your left, turn and face your captain.”

Not degraded in the slightest by the contumeliousness in Hound’s voice, something about seeing his captain sitting there on the old wooden chair, with a smile on his lips and the hairbrush balanced on his thigh, aroused him. He felt even moreso naked as Kakashi’s eye deliberately stutter-stepped down his chest, taking in his dusky erect nipples before stalking down the trail of dark brown hair which terminated in the wiry nest of darker brown pubic hair.

Quickly lowering his eyes, disinclined was he to see his captain's reaction to his steadily stiffening cock, wondering if he and Hound were inwardly laughing at him.

“Put your hands on his thighs,” Hound said, “and spread your legs. . . that’s it, boy . . . nice and wide.”

Mesmerized, he watched the hairbrush slowly move away as his palms glided over the rough cotton fabric of Kakashi’s pants, he was entranced by the rise and fall of the other man’s chest as he leaned down.

“Now bend your knees, and stick out that bubble butt like you’re proud of it.”

It took a bit of maneuvering and a few more sharp slaps, but by the time Hound was satisfied with his placement, his forearms were resting in Kakashi’s lap, his fingers wrapped around the slats of the chair back and the tip of his nose pressed into the space between his captain's thighs.

With the crown of his head smashed into the gig line of Kakashi’s pants he swore he felt his captain’s cock laying just to the right of the zipper’s placket.

It wasn’t just his imagination.

 _Might as well have a little fun of my own_ , he thought.  Every time he moved, his captain's cock twitched and hardened against the uppermost side of his head, prompting his own cock to jerk in response.

But when a vulgar, low pitched wolf whistle trilled behind him, his entire body shuddered.

He couldn't see him, but he could tell Hound had his arms crossed over his chest and his head cocked to the side as his eye skidded over his body.

“Well, aint this a pretty picture?  What I wouldn’t give to a have a camera,” Hound’s husky voice teased. “What would your ANBU comrades think if they saw you like I do right now?”

That was the last thing Yamato needed to think about.

Some of his squad mates openly teased him about being the squad leader's ‘pet,’ while others, envious of his rapport with Kakashi, dared bad mouth him hoping to usurp his position.

“By the god’s, boy,” Hound continued, “you got your head buried between your squad leader’s legs and your ass stuck out like a five-dollar whore.”  Standing directly behind him, the palm of his hand came to rest in the middle of his back and he wondered aloud, “Would your little buddies laugh at your current situation, or would they grind their teeth in anger when they finally understand why the captain favored you over them?”

He left the insinuating question floating in the air as his hand slithered down Yamato’s back, pausing for a second to fondle his butt.

“Guess we’ll never find out,” he said, unexpectedly batting at the pendulous sac between Yamato’s legs.

It couldn’t be helped . . .

the intense pain turned his knees to jelly and pushed him forward,

deeper into Kakashi’s crotch.

“Hound-san, that wasn’t very nice.”

“What of it, Kakashi? It was funny as hell to me; watching him baulk … hearing him yelp like a little bitch.  He’s probably grinnin’ like a lunatic; I could tell, he enjoyed it, didn’t ya, boy?”

“Yes, sir,” came the muffled reply.

The shame Yamato knew earlier barely eclipsed his arousal, when Hound squatted behind him, his palm cupping his balls.  He’s panting unashamedly now as two of Hound’s fingers encircle the base of his cock, while his other hand busies itself stroking him to hardness.

“Don’t get too excited, ya little cullion,” he said, “this isn’t intended for pleasure.” And with that, Hound slipped a small leather strap, lined with tiny, irregularly spaced spikes around the root of Yamato’s cock and snapped it into place. Gripping the rigid shaft in his left hand and stroking roughly, Hound gives his balls another stinging slap, which forces his head into Kakashi’s crotch once again. Another sharp slap to the balls, finds Yamato gasping for breath, his sweaty hands clutched around the spindles of the chair’s back support.

Roughly encircling the apex of his scrotum and pulling the skin downward, Hound wrapped a thin width of leather twice, directly above the place where his fingers are. Carefully, he threads the same strip of leather through the loop he’s made, effectively isolating the captive gonads one from the other; the piece of leather is then yanked upward, threading up through the coil of leather above his sac.  “Bear with me a few minutes more, Kakashi, I’m almost finished.” For the final time, Hound fed the leather strip up and through the right side of the cock ring, wrapping the excess around Yamato’s shaft and back down through the left side of the cock ring.

While being laced up like a Christmas goose, Yamato is freaking out; quietly, of course, erroneously believing Hound intends to castrate him. He’s shaking like a leaf and sweating profusely and once more Kakashi pats him on the arm, urging him by word and deed to calm down.

With his sac slightly held apart from his body and his nuts securely but loosely separated, Hound rises to his feet and goes back to where the pouch lays.  
“You can let him get up now, Kakashi,” he said, as he reached into the pouch.

 

"It’s about time for the real fun to start.”

Notes:

Baleful: full of menacing or malign influences; pernicious.

Caitiff: a base, despicable person.

Woolgathering: indulgence in idle daydreaming.

Misology: distrust or hatred of reason or reasoning.

Choler: irascibility, wrath.

Cullion: a base or vile person; worthless fellow, literally, a testicle from the Vulgar Latin coleonem meaning testicle; colei (plural), which means testicles or scrotum.  
  
Contumely: insulting display of contempt in words or actions; contemptuous or humiliating treatment.

 

 

 

 


	9. Into The Crevasse Merrily We Fall

_A ninja must see through deception. I’m telling you this because … you think you get it,_  
_which is not the same as actually getting it … get it?”_

-Hatake Kakashi

* * *

 

He knew he shouldn’t, but that didn't stop him from lifting his head to see what the masked man was up to. Watching Hound wrap a wider strip of brown leather around his right hand, Yamato cursed his insistent need to know. 

"Ah, there it is,” he said standing aright.  “Last time we used this thing, Buru was the runt of the litter.”   He swept past Yamato, laughing as he went.  “Betcha forgot we still had this.” 

“Well, I’ll be damned … has it been that long? What do you think," Kakashi asked with a devious grin, "will it be as effective as --?” 

“Positive. . . if correctly applied,” Hound tells him. 

 “Tenzou ... check it out; go on," his captain said, "you can hold it.”  Usually dexterous fingers fumble about in the bowl of Kakashi’s outstretched hand. This thing, no larger than a pea, evaded capture like a greased pig.

  _Doesn’t have sharp edges or spring mechanisms_ , he thought, prodding and rotating it between sweaty fingers.  _Didn’t react negatively when I sent a pulse of chakra though it either._  Finally apprehending the darn thing, it was much heavier than expected.

“Care to guess what it is, Tenzou?” 

“Not sure senpai … looks like a shiny marble the kids play with,” he said handing it back to Kakashi. 

“Actually, this is a training device we used with the ninken.  Believe it or not it’s a bell; ingenious really,” he says allowing the smooth round ball to roll around his palm again. "See, the leash Hound is holding?  The clapper inside the bell will only strike when that leash is pulled in a certain direction.” 

 “Yeah, like he said … it’s a training device,” laughed Hound, rudely elbowing him away from where Kakashi sat.  “We used to clip it to the dog’s collar, just beneath his ear.  Whenever the dog didn't execute a command correctly,” he said, kneeling before Yamato, “that damn bell started ringing --” 

"And it kept ringing, louder and louder,” Kakashi added, “growing incrementally heavier until the dog got the command down pat.” Leaning back in his chair, he smacked the hairbrush against his hand while he quizzically studied Yamato’s face. 

“Don't look at me like that. The bell didn’t hurt, it just annoyed the hell out of ‘em . . . that’s all.” 

Again, it really shouldn’t have, but for whatever reason, the idea of being lead around on a leash by Hound while Kakashi looked on, excited him to no end. That image vanished like a puff of smoke with a shake of his head. 

“Senpai,” he softly asked, “you’re not going to put a collar on me, are you?” 

“Pfft . . . perish the thought, Tenzou.” 

“Yeah, you're not ready and you damn sure aren’t worthy to wear my collar just yet, boy,” Hound tells him, flicking at his imprisoned balls with his fingers. “I've got something much better in mind for you. Spread your legs for me again.” 

 _Shit! Hound’s on his knees and his mask is so close to my cock_ , he thinks as he turns his eyes from the sight. _Can’t let him know I’m watching_. 

Attaching the bell to the leftover strips of leather hanging from Yamato’s cock and balls, Hound threads them through a D-ring at the end of the leash. Giving the neatly wrapped package one final slap, he rose and stood at Yamato’s side.  

“There, I feel much better.  Damn good idea you had, Kakashi.”

  _Tying up my nuts . . . that was Kakashi’s idea? I thought he was protecting me from Hound, but this . . . this is what he told him to do to me?  
No . . . no, that’s impossible – senpai wouldn’t –_

“Alrighty then,” his captain said, tapping the business end of the hairbrush against his hand.  “Let’s get this show on the road.” 

“About fuckin’ time,” Hound grumbled as he shoved Yamato forward, aiming him toward Kakashi’s right side. 

 For just a moment, he earnestly searches his taichou’s eye, hoping to find something. . . anything to confirm he’d misunderstood Hound’s claim –there was nothing other than a twinkle of mischief and a sly smile on his lips. 

 Holding Yamato’s cock in place against his belly, Hound lowers him into position his balls positioned on the outer portion of Kakashi’s thigh, his cock, painfully squeezed against his stomach and the flat part of his captain’s thigh. “Carry on,” he says, retaking a seat on the floor to hold their captive's chin aloft.

Repositioning the hairbrush in its rightful place, Kakashi laughed, “Whoops!  Can’t play the game with this.”

No sooner than Hound got comfortable, Kakashi’s hand falls . . . hard.

Confused by the thought that Hound might be the ‘good guy’ now and oddly relieved that his punishment was getting underway, he braced himself for a brisk warm up -- Kakashi didn’t disappoint on that front.

  
Once his captain settles into a steady rhythm, Hound innocently asked,

“Bet you were hoping the passage of time sapped the captain’s arm of its strength; am I right about it, boy?” 

  
“Yes sir,” he winced. 

  
 *****     *****     *****

   
 Lengthy moments stretch themselves out as Kakashi peppers his bottom and thighs; by the time Hound decided to speak again, he’s squirming about as the heat spreads and intensifies across his backside. 

“What was the exact nature of our mission, Tenzou?”

 “Reconnaissance, sir.” 

“And what exactly is reconnaissance?” 

Yamato felt his eyebrows knitting together in annoyance and his lip curling into a sneer.

 _“For god’s sake, don’t antagonize him,”_ screeched the voice in his head.

Pursing his lips, he blew out his response. “Sir, it’s the gathering of intelligence … by stealth,” he huffed as a particularly wicked strike lands in the middle of his thigh. “Ascertain enemy’s numbers … armaments and . . . **damn it!** . . . report our findings, sir.” 

By now, Kakashi was concentrating his strikes up and down his thighs and each time he squirmed away, the leather straps holding his cock and balls tightened. Hound sat back enjoying each flinch. Every startled expression and the small gasps that escaped Yamato’s lips were greeted with the noise of Hound’s heavy breaths against the inside of his mask. 

“And were we at any time to engage the engage the enemy?”

 “No sir, we were only to act in . . **. fuck**! . . . self-defense.” 

“And when the enemy stumbled upon you, where were you, boy?” 

“Camouflaged sir . . . **Ow!** . . . in a clump of . . . **holy shit!** . . . in a clump of tall grasses sir.” 

“Should I assume you’re ready to tell us what else you were doing while camouflaged in that clump of tall grasses?” 

“Please sir . . . I . . . I can’t --” 

“Can’t,” Hound said as he moved closer, “or won’t? Which is it, boy?” 

“Tenzou, this isn’t the time to be stubborn,” Kakashi said punctuating his remarks with another series of brisk slaps along the back of his thighs. Hisses of pain as Kakashi laid into his bottom and thighs with relish, were the only way could Yamato could respond.  “Need I remind you that provoking Hound-san isn’t a good idea?” 

“Sir, I--” 

“Ooaah,” yawned Hound, “I’m already bored. Maybe I should just use the Sharingan to get the truth from --” 

“Sir . . . don’t,” Yamato pled,” screwing his eyes shut when Kakashi rained down another series of sharp slaps right on his sit spots.

 Hound didn’t miss that either.

But before he could pronounce judgment for this blatant infraction of the rules, another vicious set of strikes addressing the back of his thighs pushed him forward on Kakashi’s lap, causing his legs to lift off the floor when he jerked away from Kakashi’s heavy hand. 

 At that precise moment, all activity ceased, and every eye latched onto the hairbrush as it flung itself from its perch, landing a foot away from them to lazily spin on its bristles. 

“Tenzou, I do believe you’ve committed a foul.” 

 “A double foul,” Hound sneered. “He closed his eyes and lost the brush, both in the span of about five seconds. 

 “Tsk, tsk . . . I almost feel sorry for you, boy . . . almost.”

   
   
Notes: 

Buru, or Bull as he’s known in the English anime, is Kakashi’s large, black bulldog.    


	10. Dance of the Silver Sadists: Hound's Lead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Fan art by auroralynne.**
> 
> Many thanks to this very talented artist and generous lady. 
> 
> Hope viewing it brightens your day as much as it brightened mine. 
> 
> Image credit: Aurora Lynne 
> 
> Image posted with permission of the artist; please do not repost, reproduce or reprint without the artist's express consent. 
> 
> Enjoy!

<http://archiveofourown.org/works/5231477>

One revolution of the hairbrush and Hound’s harsh laughter rings in his ears.

Two revolutions of the hairbrush and Kakashi’s hand gently squeezes, redistributing the warmth and sting throughout his trembling right buttock.

Three revolutions and the inertia causing the brush to spin is depleted of its energy; it comes to a halt halfway across the room or so it seems, with its handle turned opposite his outstretched hand and scrabbling fingers.

The geek within him stirs and begs the question,

_“How could such a thing be possible? Even if my body violently jerked in response to an external stimulus, the brush should have fallen to the floor somewhere within arm’s reach._

_But given the trajectory and distance traveled, this . . . this is ridiculous!”_

A smaller, cogent part of his mind put forth the argument that ‘ _this was your captain’s house and your captain’s brush . . . should you really be surprised the damn thing was jettisoned into the air?’_

Kakashi’s feather like touches trace over the welted outlines where his hands made impact with the back of Yamato’s thighs; his warm breath like a caress, much cooler in comparison to his flesh, falls softly across inflamed cheeks when he says:

“You know, Tenzou . . . that brush isn’t going to retrieve itself.”

He thinks to shoot a glare over his shoulder, nixing the idea as the _'ring a ling'_ of the tiny bell grows louder and its weight heavier, when Hound firmly pulls on the leather leash, wrapping it around his fist as he chuckles behind the mask.

And as sound of the bell echoes in his ears, Yamato curses the thought that Hound may have attached chakra wire to the brush to aid in its flight.

_Wouldn’t put it past that sadistic bastard_ , he thinks, scuttling closer to the sharp drop off point at the end of Kakashi's bony knees.

A slow turn of his head toward where the brush lay . . . he blinked and in that moment, he swore he saw it move further away.

"Tenzou,” came the smooth, innocent voice of his captain, "is there a problem?"

He drew in a deep breath to calm himself - given his position it would be foolish to utter anything less than a respectful response.  Flippancy, another pet peeve of Kakashi’s, was always swiftly rewarded, yet when his sarcastically frustrated response of “No problem at all, sir,” went unpunished, he saw it as some sort of victory. 

Hound on the other hand…

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, “seems your boy’s got a hard-on.”

_Of course I do,_ he thought, _why wouldn't I?_

For each time Yamato raised his hips to inch forward, the rough cotton fabric of Kakashi's pants scraped against his cock which in turn led to a tightening of the leather straps around his shaft; the downward pull of the weight and the irritating jingle of that stupid bell whenever Hound pulled on the leash compounded his state of arousal. 

Hound roughly carded his fingers through Yamato’s hair, yanking his head up to get a better view of his scowl of pain.  “Shouldn’t be surprised," he said "it's obvious you’ve confused him Kakashi – what with those love taps you gave him earlier, probably thought your pitiful excuse for a warm up was an extension of the massage. “ 

_What a prick,_ thought Yamato as he tried one more time to grab the brush from his awkward position.

"Is it true … have you got a little woody, Tenzou?  Here, stand up and let me see," Kakashi said.  "Aw … don't be embarrassed, I'm gonna see it at some point, might as well get up and bring the brush to me."

Conceding defeat, he petulantly pitched himself from Kakashi’s lap, dropped down hard on his knees and indignantly crawled over to where the brush taunted him. 

With every inch that took him further from them, Hound and Kakashi carried on a running commentary about his hairless, rosy cheeks, and thighs dappled with pink.

_I swear to the heavens above; these two idiots are no better than the cool kids on the playground._

 He grabbed hold of the implement as Hound and Kakashi continue to hoot and whistle like drunken longshoremen, and by the time he turned to face them, the handle of the brush dug into his hand so painfully that he feared it would snap in half.

_Settle down now … destruction of an implement of punishment probably carries another penalty,_ he thought as he cautiously rose to his feet.

He still had enough of his wits left over to lower his eyes when he approached the grinning Kakashi and the finger pointing Hound and despite the humiliation, his entire body quivered with lust and need when he got close enough for Kakashi to reach out to examine him.

           _Great! Now he’s handling my dick – this is the part where my brain explodes, right?_

"Hound-san, I believe you’re correct,” was the detached, clinical tone of voice Kakashi used as he ran his fingers over the leather bindings and gently stroked the bound testicles. “No wonder you were doing so well earlier Tenzou … carrying on a coherent conversation, showing no signs of breathlessness. Hmm," he said, grabbing hold of the proffered brush with his other hand. “Guess I wasn’t being as effective as I thought.” Tapping his thigh with his free hand he added, “I’ll be sure to clear up any confusion this time around.”

Yamato hesitated for a second, looking down into that deviously smiling face as the straps constricted around his cock.  “Kakashi,” he breathed, “sir … I –”

“Yes, Tenzou . . . you want to say something to me?”

“No sir,” he said, with a sad shake of his bowed down head.

“Time’s a wasting, boy,” said Hound as he wrapped the leash tighter around his fist and pulled harder; all the while, Kakashi’s gentle hand raced along his forearm, pulling him slowly downward.

“Come along now, Tenzou – back over you go.”

“And don’t forget," he heard Hound say as he repositioned himself across Kakashi’s lap. 

“Once he’s done with you . . . you’re all mine.”

*******     *****     *******

When at last he'd counted off the final stroke and Kakashi returned the hairbrush to its rightful place, Yamato was sweaty, breathless and misty eyed; his bottom -- twin, throbbing globes of fire. He was positive, though his bathroom mirror would later confirm his assessment, Kakashi made sure to lay down several white hot, leathery patches of pain that would stand out from the landscape of red over the round, fleshy parts of his bottom.

At least the straps around his cock and balls had loosened somewhat.

“Is it my turn already?” came the eager voice from behind the mask. “By the way, admirable technique with the hairbrush Kakashi – pity you couldn’t see how much he disliked it when you put your back into each stroke.”  

“It's alright,” Kakashi laughed. “From the way he kept twisting away from the brush and the number of times he clenched those bright red cheeks, I could tell he wasn’t very appreciative of my hard work.”

Struggling to catch his breath, Yamato couldn’t miss the portentous noise of Hound cracking the knuckles of his free hand; only then did he remember Hound's earlier threat.

“Let’s see now,” Hound said, “how shall I amuse myself this time?"  Tapping his foot on the floor as he looked skyward, Yamato and Kakashi could tell Hound already had a plan in mind.  

"Ah yes," he said at last.   "I know just the thing.”

When Hound’s hand disappeared inside the open pouch this time, Yamato’s level of dread soared to the rafters.

Rising to his feet, Hound thumped the crown of Yamato’s head saying, “I’m gonna need your assistance with this one, Kakashi, do you mind?”  

“Of course not . . .  I’m ever at your service, Hound-san.”  

He didn’t like the sound of that; they were being much too cooperative and affable.

_A polite Hound and a jovial Kakashi – they’ll be the figurative death of me._

“Stand him up and then I'm gonna need you to stand behind him Kakashi.”

_I’m not sure if I can take anymore,_ he thought when Kakashi and Hound graciously helped him to his feet.

_And yet . . . I crave more; my desire to please will gradually surpass my tolerance for the pain - what will become of me once they figure that out?_

His legs, weaker than water, were practically useless; he felt himself slump like a drunkard against his captain's chest.

“Careful now,” whispered Kakashi against the nape of his neck as he wrapped his arm around his waist.  Drawing him closer to his body and running the soft bristles of the hairbrush over Yamato’s chest and belly he said, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”  

It was too much and Yamato willingly escaped into the area of his mind where the red hot borders of pain and the cool blue edges of pleasure rubbed against one another, liquefying as they bonded together and oozed toward him.

The stiff cotton fibers of the Kakashi's pants seemed to stab at his chastised bottom, still hot and tender from the hairbrush; the crack of his ass, in perfect alignment with Kakashi's hard, metal zipper sent a surge of heat radiating from his balls throughout his body.  The ringing of that damn bell irked and stimulated him when Hound wrapped another length of the leash around his fist and gave it a sharp tug.

_Adrenaline,_ he thought, _that's all I need now, damn it! It’s supposed to ready my body for action not make my dick harder._

The concave surface on the top button of Kakashi’s pants pressed into the small of his back when he was pulled closer and as the bristles of the brush raked over one of his erect nipples, another heated flare shot through his groin; his shoulders relaxed against the well-muscled chest behind him.

“Hands on top of your head,” ordered Hound. “That’s a good boy.”

Hound set to work, roughly pinching and twisting Yamato's other neglected nipple between the tips of his leather clad fingers; the more Yamato squirmed against the sensations, the more delighted Hound became, increasing the pressure of his fingers and yanking on the leash. 

But he soon tired of that form of torture.  “Kakashi," he growled, "link your arms through his and keep ‘em pinned back for me would you?  I got a feeling your boy’s gonna squirm.”

The object Hound retrieved from the pouch earlier, was hidden from view and as he watched him squat down again, he felt another sharp tug on the length of leather attached to his binds; that damn bell was tinkling even louder now and the weight was yanking his nuts lower when Hound suddenly stood up and stomped his foot down.

It was at that precise moment Yamato understood why Kakashi allowed Hound to disrespect his home by keeping his sandals on.

You see, an ANBU’s sandals have small, retractable metal cleats attached to the soles which are designed to help shinobi maintain their footing over rocky terrain; those same cleats now dug into the floorboards, ensuring Hound could maintain a steady tension on the leather leash when it wasn’t wrapped around his fist.

“You’re full of surprises tonight aren’t you Hound-san? Don’t tell me ... that’s not the same one, is it?"

“Yep, the very same.  You remember, we picked up in a tack shop on the way back from the Land of Lightning almost twelve years ago." Moving closer, Hound laughed and said, "Those were the days, huh?  Hey, do you remember when we . . .?”

While they chortled and teased each other about events which transpired on that long journey home so many years ago, Yamato’s eyes raked over the short leather object Hound held out for Kakashi’s inspection.

The only things he knew for sure was it was made of made of top grain leather, obviously very expensive and well maintained for its age; it smelled as if it had been recently reworked with a fresh application of mink oil too.   As far as he was concerned, it looked like a smaller version of the two tailed tawse Kakashi owned, though its handle was braided and looped back into the stock that it might comfortably fit around a man’s wrist.

“. . . different animal . . . same purpose,” Hound said.  Holding the small leather object closer to Yamato’s face Hound wondered aloud, “I'll bet you’ve never seen one of these things before have you, boy?"

Like everything else Hound dragged out of the pouch so far this evening, Yamato didn’t dare venture a guess about what it was, for if he was incorrect, Hound would be sure to capitalize on the mistake.

“No sir,” he said, “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything like that before.”

Kakashi chuckled softly behind him as Hound explained, “This is a quirt. It’s a training device too, originally intended for horses. Since you’re hung like one,” he said, patting Yamato’s cock, “it oughta just fine.”

Both Kakashi and Hound seemed to find that bon mot extremely humorous; their laughter serving to feed into his fear as he followed Hound’s downward glance toward his captive cock.

Naturally, the aforementioned cock had a mind of its own, seemingly poking its deep purple head closer to Hound as if wanting to inspect the quirt for itself.

_No, he can’t be serious about using that thing there!_

“It’s a persuasive little tool to encourage proper behavior and performance," Hound assured him.  "Yet . . . I’m not sure how effective it will be when applied to a rebellious jounin, like you, _Tenzou_.”

Hound teased him, deliberately dragging the twin tails across his inquisitive cock, “What say we test it out?”

“Might I suggest you spread your legs wider for this one, Tenzou?  We wouldn’t want Hound-san to miss his targets and strike me accidentally, now would we?"

Snapping his head to the right, even as he widened his stance, he husked, “Kakashi . . . please . . . don’t let him --”

“Rules are rules Tenzou; Hound-san had the right to close the implement and the punishment as soon as you closed your eyes, remember?”

The quirt whistles through the air as Hound takes a few practice swings and Yamato’s legs are shaking like a gelatin mold during an earthquake.

The very second Kakashi's arms tightened around his, one precisely aimed, underhanded flick of Hound's wrist sent a blinding blaze of pain shooting through his balls.  His knees crumpled beneath him and his head rested on his captain's shoulder as the burst of bright light disappeared from behind his eyes; even so, the straps around his cock damningly tightened.  

“Oh come on,” whined Hound.  “Is that how you're going to act?   I barely tapped you … what are you gonna do when I get serious?”  

From the depths of his being, Yamato hissed, "I'll deal with it, sir!"

"Then you damn well better take the bass outta of your voice when you speak to me, boy!  Unless of course, you **want** me to see it as an act of defiance.”

He saw Hound tilt his head in wonder, he felt the rumble of his sinister laugh as it broke free of his mask and yet, these things gave him the strength to stand firm as he looked Hound squarely in the eye.

“Look how he's looking at me – like he wants to kick my ass or something.  Pay attention Kakashi, I'm going to show you how to drive insubordination out of him once and for all."

The second lash, true to Hound's word was just as precise as the first had been and unequivocally more painful; after the third and fourth strikes in rapid succession, Yamato was shamelessly grinding his ass into Kakashi’s groin, desperately trying to escape the flying tails of the quirt, all the while feeling his captain's growing erection pressing into his left butt cheek.  

Hound didn't spare a moment that he might catch his breath and he seemed to expect an immediate answer when he asked:

"Ready to tell us what took your mind off the mission now, boy?"

 

"No sir,” he barked through the pain. “I have nothing to say.”

 

NOTES:

When someone takes the time to read and comment on a work of fanfiction, it’s a thrill for a writer to receive such acknowledgement. When someone takes the time to read, comment and then craft an illustration of the words written, it is both an honor and a humbling experience – at least it was/is for me.

I am so appreciative that she put forth the time and effort bringing to life my twisted ramblings so powerfully, conveying with the strokes of her brushes what I could not do justice to with mere words.

Though we’ve never seen the light of each other’s eyes, our minds connected over the miles, creating an instant bond which led us down the path of debauchery as sisters in smut.

Her generosity in promoting this story ... her never ending quest for perfection and her boundless enthusiasm served as the impetus to keep this story alive – for these things I am most thankful.

She is indeed a treasure – talented, creative and intuitive.

Again, I thank you auroralynne, for lifting this old lady’s heart and bringing a tear to my weary eyes.

 

 

 

 


	11. Dance of the Silver Sadists: Kakashi Follows

A/N: Before we begin, I thank you, dear readers for such an enthusiastic response to another one of my twisted tales. Your encouragement warms my heart and makes my fingers fly over the keyboard. I’m honored and grateful for your support. Thank you so very much.

 

* * *

 

He could hear the smile in Hound’s voice when he said,

"Fine with me, I could do this all night.”

The next series of strikes landed directly across the head of his cock and took his breath away.  Again and again Hound struck, up and down the length of his shaft, up and under his balls, as the straps holding him hostage constricted with each strike.

And then, another blast of warm breath rushed past his ear when he heard Kakashi say over the sounds of the whistling quirt and the tinkling bell,

"My, my Tenzou, what a naughty boy you are.”

At this point in the game, woozy and strangely hungry for more of Hound’s punishment – he shocked himself to the core when these words tumble from his dry lips:

"Damn you Kakashi …  

shut the hell up!"

The roar of silence crashed against the three of them; a silence so eerie, he could literally feel and see his skin crawl --the quirt came to rest atop Hound’s shoulder and Kakashi sucked in a deep breath.

“What's this? Speaking rudely to your senpai, even as you're being punished?”  The quirt slipped from its roost to hang limply in his hand.  "Does your obstinacy know no bounds?"

He felt as if his eyes were as wide as dinner plates now, as he watched Hound reach into his front pocket to draw out another object. The white mantle of authority he wore up until this point, slid from his shoulders and was rudely kicked away.  His black, elbow length gloves, offset pale biceps as he fingered a triangular shaped piece of metal between his fingers.

“I think you've really fucked up now, Tenzou,” Kakashi said quietly.

Hound on the other hand, had nothing further to say as he leaned down and reached between Yamato’s trembling legs, attaching this new object to the tinkling bell -- it was another lead weight, which pulled his balls further away from his body.

This time when he rose silently, he started decorating the front of Yamato's thighs with ribbons of red as the quirt swung back and forth across his breastplate.

Watching the sweat glisten along his uncovered arms when his muscles tensed and relaxed with each swipe of the quirt, the makeshift leather cage tightened so rapidly Yamato feared he’d soon pass out.

"Not hearing an apology boy,” says Hound between strikes. “Why is that?”

"Sir . . .  Kakashi . . .  I'm sorry . . .  I'm sorry.”  

Fat, salty tears roll down his cheeks as the quirt’s whistle is silenced . . . for the time being.

“Let him go Kakashi.”

He hit the floor like a sack of rotten potatoes, which as it turns out was a terrible place to be as the piece of leather under Hound's boot was released and then pulled tighter when Hound stood over him again.  

The tinkling of the bell had grown louder too and the combined weights struck the floor with great force.

“On your feet, boy," the heavily breathing Hound sneered.  Go; stand over there in front of the chair.”

Every step drew out a pained huff of breath and when he was finally able to stand at the appointed place, the red stripes crisscrossing his thighs and cock, the throbbing ache in his balls, and that goddamned loud bell ringing, made him seriously rethink his decision not to reveal what Hound wished him to confess.  

“Kakashi,” he hears Hound say as they both stand behind him, “tell me something. Which implement in that box does your boy hate most?”

“That’s a tough one, but if I had to pick . . .  I’d say, the tawse.”

Yamato stiffened his shoulders and swallowed hard.

_He's lying again . . . why?_

“All right then, assume the position Tenzou, and let’s see if I’ve guessed correctly. Hound-san, would you mind fetching the two finger tawse for me?”

“Of course not . . .  I’m ever at your service, Kakashi-san.”

His palms, slick with sweat and hot against the cool wood, effortlessly slide to the rear of the seat as he spread his legs for stability. Beads of sweat run down his chest as he silently watches Hound, kneeling beside the chair and running his fingers over the thick tawse. The slap of leather against leather as Hound tests out the tawse against his palm makes his cock twitch.

“It’s got quite a sting to it, "Hound triumphantly reports. “This is gonna be interesting to watch his smug expression change each time the fingers of the tawse wrap around those firm ass cheeks. You will do your best to make it enjoyable for me, won't you Kakashi?”

“I'll do my best, because, I'm ever at your service . . . Hound-san."

Yamato can hear Hound striding over to where Kakashi stood behind him, and with every step he takes, a raging fire shoots up a straight line from his balls to his brain, burning hotter and hotter as they come together to plot their next moves.

“Here you go," he heard Hound say.   "Now don’t mind me, I’ll be standing right over there in front of your boy." The length of leather whizzed past Yamato's ankles when Hound skipped it under the chair. “Almost forgot about this thing,” he said as he gave the leash a shake.  "Now then, I have a few more questions for you boy."

“And Tenzou, since I imagine you don’t wish to intentionally antagonize Hound-san again,” came the measured voice of his captain, “do your best to keep your head up and your eyes open.”

“I will, sir,” he says as Hound stands before him taking up the slack in the leash.

*****     *****     *****

When the first wallop of the tawse finds its mark, Hound is standing right in front of him, one hand lightly gripping the back of the chair, the other pulling back on the leash.

“That was mighty tasty, Kakashi,” he says. "The open-mouthed silent scream, the struggle to keep his eyes fixed on me … top notch! You know, I’d buy tickets to see something like that again.”

“Why thank you Hound-san. Let’s see if I can get him to do it one more in this first set of thirty.”

_First set? Thirty?  I’ll be crawling my skin or out of my mind long before then!_

“Carry on . . .  and as for you, little puppy,” said Hound giving him a chuckle under the chin, “why don’t you tell me how many years you’ve worked with Kakashi?”

“Twelve, **augh** , it’s been twelve years, sir.”

“Kakashi, he was your mentor . . . is that correct?”

_Of course he was you jackass,_ he thinks, but answers, “Yes sir.”

“And you . . . you admired him as your mentor, didn't you?”  

“Yes sir, I . . . **Hah . . . geez!**. . . I did . . . sir.” 

“Ever make a tactical error during a mission?”

“Well, yes sir . . . once or **damn it** twice, when I was younger.”

Suddenly, the coil of leather hit the floor and Hound left off the interrogation for a bit that he might walk around to check on Kakashi’s progress, or so Yamato thought. 

It didn't really matter what they doing; he was gonna enjoy this reprieve for all it was worth.

One gloved hand smoothed over his left buttock while the right one was treated to the sensation of Kakashi’s bare hand. He could hear them whispering behind him even when they stepped away, allowing the heat of the tawse to sink down and spread through his body.

The next thing he knew, Hound was standing in front of him again.  "You can almost fry an egg on your ass," he said.  Titling up Yamato's chin he whispered, “I convinced Kakashi to only give you ten swats . . .   providing you tell me what I want to know.  Have we got a deal?"

Yamato pulled back to get a better look at the man in the mask.  _What? Did they switch brains back there or something?_

"I don't know what to say to that, sir, but I can't . . . please, don't make say it sir."

Hound threw up his hands. "I tried . . .  your boy's just too stubborn."

"No matter,” was Kakashi’s gruff reply.  "He'll talk soon enough -- all I have to do is motivate him properly."

If felt like Kakashi reached all the way back to the main gate to deliver the next wallop that damn near pushed him over the chair’s back and into Hound's arms.

"Get back into position . . .  now!"  Kakashi growled.

Hound leaned down as did Yamato and he said, "I think he's a little jealous, seeing’s how I got a more guttural reaction out of you earlier than he's gotten thus far.  Yep, he's gonna really lay into you, boy, and there's nothing I can do to help you."

_You want to help me?  What the hell is going on here?_

"Anyway, where was I? Oh, right . . . tell me, _Tenzou,_ have you ever been disciplined or written up by another squad leader for your inattentiveness?”

“Huh?   **Sweet kami,** no sir, never . . . **shit!”**

The strikes of the tawse were coming closer together, their strength enhanced by an influx of chakra and sheer determination on Kakashi's part.

“What about your short term memory?" Hound asked. "Ever had problems with that?”  

“Sir?   No sir . . . at least . . .   **ow.** . . I don’t think I have.” 

"So," said Kakashi, "it's only when you're teamed with me and Hound that you have a problem . . . is that what you expect me to believe?"

"Yes sir, **fuck,** I mean, **aaah, aaah,** no sir."

“I think he's confused again, Kakashi, because I distinctly remember an incident in which he did the very same thing that he’s being punished for right now.  Is it starting to come back to you, _Tenzou_?”

Through tear stained eyes, Yamato shook his head, his eyes pleading with Hound not to make him relive that day.

"Don't worry," he said. "I've locked that particular memory away for myself . . .  not even Kakashi knows what happened.  Although I’m sure he’ll be pleased to find out that I disciplined you for your stupidity right there in the field, 'member?”

_How could I forget? You stripped me naked, tied me to a tree and took a switch to every part of my backside._   “Yes sir, I remember.”

“That was ten,” Kakashi said. “Think I’ll switch sides now, but do go on Tenzou . . . Hound-san, I'd like to know the story ended.”

“So, what do you think,” Hound asked. “Should I share that memory with Kakashi right now?"  

“Sir, **crap,** no, please sir.” 

“Then I guess you're ready to tell us what happened during this last mission, correct?” 

“Hound-san, **aargh** , don't make me --” 

“Why on earth,” Kakashi snapped, “are you being so pigheaded, Tenzou? You afraid I’m gonna laugh at you . . . despise you or something?” 

“Yes, sir **oofh**.”

“Listen,” Kakashi says as the fourteenth strike lands, “this is how I look at it, better to embarrass yourself for a few minutes by confessing, then have Hound drag it out of you and hold it over your head for years --"

“He’s not going to tell us anything Kakashi; matter of fact, he’s enjoying his punishment too much.”

“No, no, **aaah** sir I'm not . . .”

“You calling me a liar, boy?”  Hound asked when he jerked the leash as the fifteenth strike landed.

"No sir!"

_It’s not going to get any better_ , his mind yells. _Goddamn it, tell them the truth!_

By now his mind was drifting back into that infinite space of euphoric arousal . . . seconds away from orgasm physically denied and stridently sought after.

Hound tugged on the leash again and grabbed him by his chin. “His pupils are blown wide open, so either he’s having a stroke or he’s getting off on the pain.”

Kakashi crept up next to Hound and give his kohai the once over. “Does look rather blissful, doesn’t he?”

“Your boy’s a glutton for punishment, how fortunate; he likes taking it . . . we like dishing it out.” And look at this,” he says pointing down at Yamato’s cock, “he’s leaking like a busted faucet.”

“My goodness,” he distantly hears Kakashi say, “the head of your cock is a deep maroon color -- it looks swollen and quite tender. Does it hurt Tenzou?”

“Oh god . . . yes, yes sir.”

“Would you like me to release those straps for you, Tenzou?”

“Please sir,” he begs without shame.

He can hear himself whimpering, mewling almost, like a cat in heat as Kakashi seems to ponder his condition; he cares nothing for it for he can see the concern in Kakashi's eye, he can tell by his posture that he’s ready to put an end to his punishment.  A timid glance over Kakashi’s right shoulder, and there’s Hound, pacing back and forth in a tight circle, patently pissed that Kakashi might call their little game to a halt.                 

“Why of course,” the sinful and deep voice of his captain whispers as he positions his hand over the improvised cage of leather.

Like a fast moving summer wind that comes before the storm, Kakashi’s face and voice changed.

“I’ll be happy to help you, Tenzou,” he snapped, crushing his cock in his firm grip, “just as soon as you tell us what we want to know.”

 

TBC

And yes, gentle readers; I am officially . . . a bitch.  Thank you.

 

 

 

 


	12. Dance of the Sepia Masochist

Pain receptors pushed to their limit, transmit incomplete and indistinct messages.

With each truncated breath, his lungs burn white hot even as his chest is frigid like a glacier’s base.

Tremulous arms and legs quake under the strain of a gawkily adopted pose – one side of his body wracked with violent spasms, the opposite side hangs in a state of atony.

_Inhale._

But off in the distance, a bright light shone, flickering around the edges of this, his personal hell; the bright light which waxed and waned was nothing less than subtle spikes in the chakra pattern above him and to his left.

_Exhale._

Yamato knew that chakra like he knew his own face; he’d trusted that chakra for as long as his memory held firm. And now, the chakra he knew and trusted was in disarray.

Kakashi, the _real_ Kakashi, was embroiled in quiet turmoil all his own.

_Inhale._

_I’ve felt this before . . .. I’ve seen the end result of this struggle only once._

Winding down from a hellish mission where Hound took the lead, he’d watched from the safety of an empty equipment room as Hound ripped Kakashi from nave to nostril, refusing banishment to his dark, cold abode.

_Exhale._

Optimism at a time like this, was a fool’s gambit, and yet he followed the fitful stream of chakra flowing from Kakashi like a weary nomad to an oasis.

 _Mercy_ , he convinced himself, _mercy_ was gaining ground on cruelty . . . yes, he was sure of it now.

He lifted his head and looked directly at his captain without askance or waiting for acknowledgement. The look on Kakashi’s face, his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched, and his lips compressed into a thin, pink line - these, individually and collectively rekindled the dying cinders of hope.

 _Yes_ . . . he could taste it in the air around him – _mercy_. . . he could feel it stretching out its arms to enfold him. _Yes,_ like a white linen wrapped angel, he could see it approaching so clearly now:

And so could Hound.

“Now isn’t the time wimp out on me, Kakashi,” hissed the fervid voice beneath the mask.

An apathetic half turn of Kakashi’s head, like someone roused from mental torpor -- the protracted rise of a single eyebrow, as if questioning his own motives; hope and fear clawed at Yamato’s gut with every millimeter that the single grey brow rose. It was as if fire were shut up in his bones, soldering him in place though he felt like jumping out of his skin.

_Inhale._

A breath, weary as Kakashi opened his mouth to speak – it was for naught, cut short by Hound’s verdict:

“I’m not about to cut him loose either, so don’t ask.”

_Exhale._

He watched it _– mercy,_ creeping like a shadow across his captain’s face until it coalesced into a rigid curtain of _duty,_ the obligation to finish what he’d begun.

Fretful now, Yamato saw the light of benevolence in Kakashi’s eye cloud over and fade to black.

But when the tawse tumbled from his captain's hand, Yamato was certain his punishment had reached its end.

“Wimp out?” Kakashi laughed. “Cut him loose? Why, Hound-san, that’s the furthest thing from my mind.”

Silently, Yamato strangled on a breath, unsure of which way it was supposed to go.

He turned in on himself, as if bludgeoned with a weighted club; his body crumpled slightly, his shoulders and chin dipped low as a rushing, boiling breath flew from him.

“As a matter of fact,” Kakashi said, “Tenzou’s stubbornness has grown tiresome . . . even for a patient man like me.”

And just like that . . . mercy took wing and Yamato, came undone. Like a weeping willow he stood, disappointment anchoring him in place as his limbs swayed in the shifting breezes of Kakashi’s compassion.

“Yeah, he’s an inconsiderate little prick too,” said Hound. “God only knows how long it’ll take me to clean his grubby sweat stains out of these fine pieces of leather.”

The constant drone of Hound’s complaints wither into nothingness as Kakashi reached down to cradle his kohai’s flagging erection in the palm of his hand.

Wide brown eyes follow the purposeful movements of a pale thumb, loitering around the underside of his suffused cock, delicately capturing samples of the viscid fluid oozing from the tiny slit.

His captain’s threatening tone and stance notwithstanding, Yamato feels his body reacting to the unexpected stroking, though his mind is screaming for him not to trust the gentle overtures.

This disorienting and unmerited display of familiarity and dare he think it … _ownership_ , it felt so wrong, so improper and yet that’s exactly what made it so right.

Every time Kakashi rubbed his thumb up and over the frenulum, Yamato’s hips thrust themselves lewdly forward.  His arms, poised to stretch upward and drape themselves over his captain’s shoulders, yet he stopped short, knowing Hound would rip them from their sockets should he attempt such a thing.

Instead, his hands fall to grip the back of the chair - his cock, ached and pulsing in time with his rampaging heartbeat whenever he snuck a glimpse of the sly smile on Kakashi’s lips and the wicked gleam in his eye.

 _He’s making a game of it now,_ he blearily surmised when his captain daubed the glistening substance up and around the pulsing crown - pausing in his movements now and then, Kakashi tested the tackiness of the fluid between his thumb and forefinger before slathering what remained across the pads of his other fingers.  

“You know, I’m inclined to believe that ‘this’ is no ordinary sweat,” Kakashi said at last. “Take a closer look... tell me what you think, Hound-san.”

In the lower half of his swimming vision, he sees the tip of Hound’s index finger advancing – unable to thwart the shudder that shakes him, he rolls with the feeling of anticipation when Hound swipes at a dangling fat droplet. There’s a mix of pain and pleasure as the leather binds constrict once more when Hound lazily swirls his finger over the head of his turgid, straining cock.

“Definitely not sweat,” Hound announces even as he messily coats his gloved fingers. “Hmm . . . he’s a moukton user . . . correct?”

Kakashi nodded. “Hound-san, you know full well he's unique in that respect --”

“So then,” said Hound cocking his head to side, “should we assume that this … ‘ _fluid_ ’ is sap of some kind?”

Round and round he dragged his fingers, ever so often flicking at the crown with his thumbnail. “And if this stuff is sap, I wonder what it tastes like? Ten bucks says it’s bitter . . . but, I could be wrong.”

Hound runs his the whole of his hand down the bound shaft and up again, coaxing out a few more dewdrops as he squeezes the slick crown against his palm. “Maybe it’s salty … maybe it’s sweet. How will we ever know for sure?”

Yamato cut his eyes to Hound, who tapped at the chin portion of the mask with his other hand and then back to Kakashi, who seemed to share Hound’s bogus sense of wonder.

_Really? Is this the absolute best these geniuses could come up with?_

He had but a moment to school his features before they caught wise - rolling his eyes at their lame humor or letting a sour ‘fuck off’ look show on his face would only incite Hound to do god knows what to him.

Still, the stupidly brave part of himself wanted to reach out and slap both of them upside the head.

Exasperation, what little of it remained, washed over him like a neap tide when Hound released him and Kakashi went back to his work of sensual tyranny. A simple brush of his captain’s fingers over and under the ruddy crown, left Yamato a panting, glassy-eyed puddle.

Yet that wasn’t enough to content Kakashi – now he varied the direction, speed and pressure of his fingertips as he dragged another line of moisture from the weeping slit and siphoned a series of moans and grunts from Yamato’s reluctant lips.

Since he’d already given up control over the movement of his hips, Yamato gladly lost himself in the rhythm of their smooth rocking motion; he willingly yielded to the pleasure as his body begged for more of the delicious friction each time Kakashi kneaded the sensitive seam connecting the collar of his cock to the shaft.

Dangling on the brink of orgasm, suspended over a pit of gratification by the strings of his captain’s whims, Yamato knew he couldn’t hold back much longer:

And so did Kakashi.

That husky throated laugh, sent vibrations surging through the hand which kept him near the point of no return. Suddenly, gentle strokes morphed into searing pinches and teasing fingers headed south where they turned into the cupped bowl of Kakashi’s palm, nestling his overfilled sac.

A sough, so plaintive, so desperate floated over their heads when Kakashi gave the tender gonads a slight squeeze.

“Why Tenzou, you’re purring like a little kitten,” Kakashi mocked. “It almost sounds as if you’re eager to tell us something.”

 _“Damn it! You should have known better_ ,” screamed that tinny voice inside his head. “ _These bastards promised they’d make you talk one way or the other … and since brute force didn’t work_ \--”

“Hound-san, you read lips better than I do . . . any idea what he’s trying to say?”

His jaw was snapped closed by the hand that wrenched his head in the opposite direction; pleasure shrank back and ran screaming when caught in the cross hairs of Hound’s bright red Sharingan.

“Oh, that’s simple,” came the thoughtful response from under the mask. “He’s dying to tell us what ‘this stuff’ tastes like, but he’s struggling to find the right words. Am I right about that, boy?”

Hound raises and lowers his jaw in a nodding motion, laughing as he makes Yamato his frightened marionette. With his other hand, inches from his captive’s parched lips Hound snarled, “You know how I hate to be kept waiting, boy. And look at that . . . you’ve made an awful mess of my glove,” he said pressing his fingers to Yamato’s lips.

“Go on then . . . clean it off.”

Stunned eyes land on an area smudged wet and shiny against crinkled black leather and Yamato felt a right fool when his tongue crept forward to obey.

Inasmuch as the rational part of him wanted to protest this treatment, there was an overwhelming urge to reach out and grab hold of that firm hand that he might suckle each finger like a hungry calf to a teat. And as loudly as the proud part of himself wanted to curse them both for the humiliation they gleefully heaped upon him, the flat surface of his tongue was more so committed to eradicating all evidence of his neediness.

Working in harmony, the exact second Hound’s finger breached the seam of his lips, Kakashi released his hold on the low hanging sac - his deft fingers returning to attack the sensitive area beneath the head of his cock.

_Inhale._

Again the voice inside his head screeched a warning. _“You twisted little idiot! If you spill your seed … you spill your secret – is that what you really want to do?”_

_Exhale._

_Yes,_ he thought _, I mean no . . . have to focus on something… anything else . . . but it’s been so long, and it feels so –_

“Don’t make love to it.” Hound snapped. “Just clean up your mess, boy.”

When half lidded eyes settled on the stark white mask, its eye holes rimmed with crimson, Yamato took the only course of action available – a one-sided game of chicken with the volatile Hound would keep his mind occupied while Kakashi relentlessly toyed with his body.

Determined not to waver, nor blink, Yamato set himself, watching for a glimmer of twisted pleasure or a squint of disgust in the lone grey eye that stared back at him from inside the mask.

A page from Kakashi’s book he ripped - the flat surface of his tongue lavishing lengthy laves and short bursts of spirited licking where only the tip of his tongue darted between Hound’s fingers.

But there was nothing, not even a flutter of Hound’s eyelids to chronicle his disdain or mild amusement.

And just as Kakashi had done earlier, Yamato continually varied the pace, pressure and location of his tongue, gifting Hound with a flurry of timid licks or wanton lapping.

Still, no response registered either in Hound’s eyes nor his body.

Though his pride withered with each attempt, yet he found capitulation to the shame bestowed an explosion of tastes and sensations he never expected. Against the nubs of his tongue, splashed the tang of weapon oil and tiny barbs of metallic shavings scrubbed against his teeth. He pulled his head back to deliver a final, languid pass of his tongue from the web of Hound’s glove to the tip of his finger.

_There! There it was!_

Victory over and liberty from the demands of his body was his, for the moment when a barely perceptible tremor flashed through the stolid Hound. The Sharingan was hidden from view and Hound’s natural eye widened; whether in shock or arousal, Yamato couldn’t be sure.

What he saw next was rage when Hound snatched away his hand and demanded:

“Wipe that stupid grin off your face and tell me what it tasted like, boy.”

There was a moment of groundless triumph, a fleeting giddiness in which to bask. “Saddle soap, sir,” he breathed out. “Fresh earth, old oil and something else … something bitter.”

“Well, aren’t we fortunate Kakashi? We’ve got the only pussy in the entire village that can articulate its thoughts.”

“You’ve made a mess of my fingers too, Tenzou,” he heard Kakashi say. “It would be the height of rudeness if you didn’t clean them as well.”

Even as Kakashi smeared Yamato’s dry lips with his own essence, Hound leaned in closer, menacing.

His Adam’s apple, keener than a three sided stone, gouged at his throat when he swallowed down his deep need. Quick as lightening, the corners his mouth were prized open to accept both Hound and Kakashi’s tactile members.

Side by side, warm flesh and cool leather exert firm pressure on his tongue, never reaching back far enough to gag him; the leather restraints wrapped around his cock, squeezed ever tighter as he moved his tongue in a halting back and forth motion to scrub them both clean.

His eyes fluctuate between them and a trickle of saliva escapes his mouth, slowly rolling down his stubbly chin.

He didn’t care if he never drew in another breath – the need to cum, so great and pressing, made him stagger under the weight of his own stifled moans.

Leather teasingly brushed against the inside of his cheek when Hound crooked his finger prior to withdrawal and before he could stop himself, before he could spare a thought for what his senpai would think, Kakashi’s finger was sucked deeper inside his mouth with an abandon that unnerved him.

“That’s my good boy,” whispered Kakashi, his lips so close to Yamato’s ear, while his other hand slithered down his shaft and over the binding straps until his blunted nails dug deep into the posterior root of the Yamato’s balls.

The shades of his eyelids, half-mast with expectation, popped open when Hound tugged at the leash and set that accursed bell to ringing once more.

The skin on his back quailed when he felt Hound move to stand behind him.

_The tawse . . . it’s still the on floor! Oh my god . . . please don’t let him be the one to pick it up!_

“This is the last time we’ll offer you a choice, boy,” Hound growls against his back, “so either you answer our original question right now and leave here with a case of blue balls --”

“Or else,” said Kakashi, retracting his fingers from the heat of Yamato’s mouth, “I’ll have to come up with some other ways for you to entertain us.”

Suddenly, the diaphanous cocoon of sensuality which encased him till now, ruptured with a bang - his mind suddenly clear, as the extremity of his predicament slapped him square in the face.

“So, what’s it gonna be ,Tenzou?”

“Senpai . . . I can’t answer the question. Please understand that . . . I just --”

“So be it,” Kakashi snapped.

What followed could only be described as a sad, frustrated expiration as those pale fingers wiped down Yamato’s chest.

A yelp of pain resounded in the room when Kakashi grabbed hold the bound testicles in the palm of his other hand, exerting enough pressure to make Yamato rise up on the balls of his feet.

“In all the years I’ve known you,” his captain said, aligning his other hand beneath Yamato’s jaw, “you’ve never failed to carry out an order --”  

“Don’t let him play you with those pleading brown eyes Kakashi. Can’t you see he’s depending on your kindness to --?”

“Kindness?” “Humph, I’m afraid that ship just hoisted anchor. What a pity for you, Tenzou.”

Though Kakashi was still wearing the same crooked grin and affecting the same bored expression, his body language bellowed aggression and wrath set free from its harness. That look in his eye, seldom seen by allies and feared by his enemies, was now directed like an arrow – straight through Yamato’s heart.

 _“For god’s sake man,_ yells the panicked voice in his head _, “don’t you see how close he is to his boiling point?”_

_“Fuck the consequences! Just say it!”_

**_*****     *****     *****_ **

Terror whistled along his insides and dropped down into the basement of his stomach like a boulder off a cliff when he heard and felt Hound’s presence backing away from him. His brain kick started itself into self-preservation mode … a step or two backward and he collided with Hound’s whipcord lean body.

Kakashi let his eye drift from his kohai’s face as he folded his arms across his chest and glanced over Yamato’s shoulder.

“Hound-san, did I ever tell you that Tenzou here is an excellent dancer?”

_What the hell’s he talking about now?_

“Your boy,” spluttered Hound, “a dancer? That’s impossible. Dancers have superb posture; they move with an otherworldly grace . . . your boy can barely walk without scraping his knuckles against the pavement.”

“Oh, but it’s true, and if you’ll spare me a few minutes,” Kakashi said, stooping to retrieve the tawse, “I’ll see if I can dig up some appropriate music. Meanwhile, why don’t you prepare the dance floor for Tenzou’s performance?”

Watching him rise and turn on his heel, panic coursed through Yamato’s body like an electric current.

Between one swallow and the next, Hound wrapped his arm around his waist.  There was scarcely enough time to think, much less to acknowledge the glint of steel before the edge of a razor sharp kunai pressed into the left side of his throat.

“All right now, boy,” slithered Hound’s words inside his ear, “no sudden moves.”

The arm around his waist seemed to burn itself into his skin, though the cool ceramic of the mask against the right side of his face sent a chill through him. “You’re a fool, _Tenzou …_ an animal, driven by its instincts.   Mind you, I understand, I can even appreciate that. Not to worry, I’m not gonna kill you because of it – you’re far too amusing to watch.”

Contrary to his words, the kunai pressed deeper into his flesh. “You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Kakashi this pissed off.  Need I remind you of the savagery he’s capable of ... especially when something or somebody he cares about forces him to shut down?”

“No sir,” came the tiny whisper through tight lips.

“Hell . . . he even scares me when he gets like this; there’s no telling what he might do next.”

Hound’s body tenses against him - the arm around his waist pulls in tighter even as the kunai stings against his throat.

“I tried to help you earlier,” he whispered, “and you pissed all over my efforts. Now there’s not a damn thing I can do or say to control Kakashi until his anger finds a suitable target.”

“Sir, please – I promise…I’ll tell you whatever you want to know --”

“Oh, I know you will … but aint no turning back now.

Foolish little boy,” he laughed. “Looks like you chose to fear the wrong one of us.”

 

Notes:

Atony: lack of tone or energy; muscular weakness.

Askance: suspicion, mistrust, or disapproval.

Moukton: a jutsu whereby two elemental natures (water and earth) are combined to produce an entirely different nature; in Yamato’s case, he is able to produce fully grown trees, or beams of wood from any point of his body. This ability can be used both offensively, to bind and hold an enemy or defensively to shield himself and others from danger.

Frenulum (anatomical): the small band of tissue under the glans penis that connects the foreskin to a mucous membrane which in turn coats the glans penis; this mucous membrane secretes a thin layer of mucus which keeps the penis and the underside of the foreskin moist and lubricated. The frenulum helps contract the foreskin over the penis. That’s a mouthful (pun not intended). For an uncircumcised man, this highly innervated piece of connective tissue is extremely sensitive and responsive to the slightest pressure.

Sough: a rushing, rustling or murmuring sound.

 

 

 


	13. The Way Back Is The Way Out

The _slap and swoosh_ of heavy leather whipping over wooden slats...labored breaths, pained gasps and elongated moans of distressed pleasure…

these were the sounds which pushed him down the mouth of a darkened hallway.  His steps hobbled by visions of wide brown eyes, brimming with equal parts trust, terror and defiance ...

the rhythm of his footfalls thrown off as he remembered those pursed lips, hurling accusations unspoken… damn near tripped over his own feet as images of Tenzou’s restrained and dripping arousal flashed before his eyes… 

_No … I can’t turn back … can’t undo what’s done._

A heart discordant – a conscience skewered ... a mind in chaos - he paused for a second, his hands on his hips.

_I expected a minim of resistance... even made allowances for his rebellion … why hasn’t he given up yet?_

The smell of fear and sweat floated down the hallway and tapped him on the shoulder.  _Right … Hound holds his mind in a genjutsu - by now, Tenzou’s accepting Hound’s thoughts as his own.  Shit!  And I left him out there with that sociopath… I have to end this fast!_

The force of Hound’s voice falling from the ceiling and lodging inside his head, slammed him against the wall - the tone of his voice as shards of venom, nailed him in place.

“ _What a lyin’ sack of shit you are Kakashi._

_For god’s sake ... look at yourself man;_

_you’re sweatin' like you stole something and your dick’s hard as a rock …_

_you’re enjoying his pain as much as he is.”_

The moment Kakashi raised his hands to cover his ears, Hound’s hot breath and proximity soldered him to the wall.

“I’m not Tenzou,” he whispered, “ stop fuckin’ with my mind.  This ends right now, Hound!”

Pushing himself from the wall, the world around him suddenly went black - a thick band of steel pressed against his throat, forcing his focus into the eyes of a madman; metal shackles sprang from the drywall behind him, trapping his hands beside his head and a well-placed knee digging into his groin, stilled his movements.

“ _With each act of his obedience, I grow stronger and your ‘control’ over me lessens,_ ” Hound breathed.

 “ _And unlike you, sentiment has no effect on my judgement._

_Soon ... very soon, my desires will consume his ... and yours too.”_

“I swear to the gods Hound … if you hurt him, I’ll--”

_“You’ll what?  Banish me to the Cimmerian shades?_

_Kill me?_

_You make me sick, ya spineless little pussy!_

_Don’t you understand?_

_You need me to do what you can’t … to deliver what you want--”_

“No!  Not like this!”

Into a black and tangled morass, Hound’s laughter dragged him.

_“Pushing him to the point of surrender …_

_testing the limits of his submission -_

_that always got you off before didn’t it, Kakashi?”_

“Shut up!”

Once more, Hound’s laughter, crueler than the grave, pierced his flesh hotter than poisoned senbons.

_“I know exactly what you want Kakashi,_

_because I want it too._

_Think of the fun we’ll have -_

_watching him fall to knees, begging us for forgiveness with tears in his eyes--”_

“I said shut up damn it!”

_“Those lips of his …_

_wrapped around our cock,_

_sucking down our cum like a greedy hummingbird does nectar_

_… offering up his sweet ass for us to plunder--”_

“Enough!”

_“I am you Kakashi … the shadows inside you _

_find embodiment in me..._

_all of your depraved needs are made manifest in me.”_

“You’re insane, Hound --”

_“Am I or is it that you can’t stand to see what you really look like?_

_Maybe you’re jealous, because I know how to handle him._

_Knowing he prefers me over you ... too much for you to take, is it?”_

Hound steps back, folding his arms across his chest as he does, intently watching his prey struggle against his bindings.

_“You know, Kakashi… I was holding a kunai to his throat for a while after you left us alone._

_His body was trembling against ours,_

_his cock was testing the strength of its restraints._

_Damn shame you missed it.”_

“I’m ordering you to let him go Hound - you’ve taken this too far.”

_“Hmm… I think not._

_Relax … he’s still safe inside my genjutsu…_

_for the moment.”_

As the bindings melt away, Kakashi lunges forward, his arms grasping at the thin, chilly air where Hound once stood.  And from the living room he hears Hound command:

“Hold your arms out in front of you … palms facing each other.  Gotta get you squared away quickly before Kakashi comes back.”

Suddenly, images of a compliant Tenzou are projected before his eyes; Hound’s Sharingan leaves out no detail - helplessly, he watches as Tenzou’s tongue swipes over his lips - his arms raising in concert as he hastens to obey.

_Shit, I’m screwed!  If I go back now, Hound will overtake me and I’ll be forced to carry out his bidding; if I leave Tenzou defenseless for much longer -- oh god … hate to think what Hound would do to him just to spite me._

 He’s standing before his destination before he realizes how he got there - his heart drumming against his rib cage, his fingers clawing at the door frame, absorbing its strength ... bleeding out his vacillating will.

Over the threshold and into the semi darkness he flung himself - his back grazing the cool interior wall as he ducked inside.

All the bravado ... the swagger, they slid from him as a snake shedding its skin, crashing to the floor, shattering into millions of iridescent pieces as Hound continued his taunting:

_“You need me, Kakashi…_

_to do what you can’t …_

_to get what you really want --”_

“No!  Your presence I allowed, that his confession might come speedily. Just do as I command you - I’m still in control here, Hound!”   

Just then, the old wooden chair skidded across the room, smashing into the kitchen table with a loud bang.

With the soft click of a switch, light stampeded into the stillness of his cold, empty bedroom.  With his eyes squeezed shut, he choked down a confounded laugh – for Hound’s overbearing personality and his own need to save face had him painted into a corner.

 _Calm down,_ he thought _. I made doubly sure that Tenzou won’t suffer any permanent damage.  Before I left, I reinforced a chakra cushion around his genitals just to be on the safe side. Those leather straps wrapped around his cock and balls . . . the weights … they’re real and yet, just another part of the illusion._

He leaned his head back against the wall and once more, increasingly vivid and salacious visions of his kohai paraded through his mind; he could almost reach out and wipe away the sweat glistening atop bistre tinted shoulders.  His mind’s eye followed each drop of moisture as it trickled down defined pectorals ... over and around dusky nipples that invited his lips to taste, touch and tantalize.

Kakashi shook his head.  

_No, can’t dwell on that now … need to think clearly._

Still, the images persisted, flashing through his brain like scenes from a naughty nickelodeon; the quivering thighs, kissed by the quirt’s lashes sporting bright, rubicund stripes – the firm, rounded buttocks, painted red by the hairbrush and warm to the touch; it was too much at once - absently Kakashi traced a finger around his own stiff nipple, pinching it ever so slightly.

He let out a breath when the image of Tenzou’s thick cock paused on the picture screen of his mind; bound and weeping, silently begging for attention, pleading for release.   Meanwhile, as Tenzou’s bitten off moans rumble in his ears, his other hand slowly travels downward, grazing the top of his pants – hesitant to reach inside - knowing one touch would not be enough to satisfy.

And then from the living room he heard that tiny brass bell ring – through Hound’s eyes he saw Tenzou’s eyes glazed over with lust; his voice, meek as he said:

“Yes sir, I understand.  Kakashi’s anger with me is justified.  I will endure whatever punishment he deems necessary.”

With no time to properly unbutton his pants Kakashi jammed his hand inside – the top button flying across the room, landing inches from the armoire.  

And now, the same blunt fingernails which nipped Tenzou’s orgasm in the bud, frantically dug into the space beneath the flared head of his own cock. The pain, barely holding him in check, as pearly beads of pre-cum transude into his crooked fingers.

 _Oh god, it’s true_ … _Tenzou’s submission always ripped through me, leaving me like this. My strength is dwindling and Hound’s will encroaches on mine … if I just inflict a little more pain …_

His imagination pressed him closer to the flat surface behind him and now he could feel Tenzou’s hot, wet mouth sucking at the head of his cock in the same hungry manner that he’d sucked on his finger earlier.

All the while Hound’s voice kept repeating the same phrase in his mind:

“ _Focus on what lies ahead Kakashi –_

 _how sweet will be our reward whenever we choose to take it_.”

An aggrieved huff escaped his lips as his fingers clumsily slide down, encircling the base of his cock like a vise.

 _No! I can’t do this,_ he thought as his eyes snapped open _. I’ll be no better than you, Hound._

He wrenched his hand free, his head craning in the direction of the living room at the sound of a kunai impacting solid wood.

_I have to move … have to intercede before it’s too late!_

Wiping away the evidence of his concupiscence, he traced a path to his front pants pocket; sticky fingers dove inside and ran down the hardened steel key which rested there. The armoire loomed large in his eyes as he lifted his head slightly.

 

_Forgive me Tenzou – this is the only way there is to save you._

 

**_*****     *****     *****_ **

 

“Hold your arms out in front of you, palms facing each other,” Hound commanded. “Gotta get you squared away quickly before Kakashi comes back.”

Absently Yamato complied, the whole of his attention concentrated on the room down the hall where a slice of light illumined the dark passageway. Scarcely a flinch had he when the old wooden chair crashed into the kitchen table. He took no notice of the lengths of leather being secured around his wrists – he paid no mind to the tinkling bell, even as its noise grew louder and the weights grew heavier. He didn’t even blink when the same kunai Hound used against his throat earlier landed blade first into a wooden slat beside his foot.

“Yes sir, I understand.  Kakashi’s anger with me is justified.  I will endure whatever punishment he deems necessary.”

In the distance, he heard only the groan of a squeaky hinge as it turned on itself; shortly thereafter came the unmistakable sound of wood sliding against wood.

“Uh oh,” said Hound. “That can’t be a good thing. I can tell by the look in your eyes, and the tense set of your shoulders that you know exactly where Kakashi is in that room and you know what he’s doing in there too, don’t you, boy?”

“Yes sir,” he answered a bit too quickly. “I know.”

 _That wasn’t the sound of an ordinary closet door,_ he thought _… it was the armoire. The jibe about my ability to dance . . . and the music - it all makes sense now._

Laughing, Hound turned away, striding toward the abandoned utility pouch. “They say, ‘fear sharpens the senses and heightens one’s awareness;’ my, my, my … this is gonna be interesting.”

Interesting wasn’t the word Yamato would use in this situation – Kakashi’s anger coupled with what the armoire held, meant he was in for a period of pain like he’d never experienced at his captain’s hands before.

You see, long ago, as their ritual of discipline and punishment was being established, Kakashi led him on a tour of his home; so thrilled was he to be inside senpai’s bedroom that he never took seriously what he was being shown that day.

As sweat ran down alongside his ear, he remembered watching Kakashi fish around the inside of his pants pocket, before pulling out the weirdest looking silver key he’d ever seen and unlocking the armoire’s doors.

There were only three items stored inside the unassuming piece of furniture; ANBU uniforms, weapons and a large lacquered box filled with blank scrolls - nothing out of the ordinary or any different from the items Yamato himself kept in a locked closet at his own home. However, when Kakashi pushed the row of uniforms to other side and sent a pulse of chakra into the rear wall, a hidden panel rolled down, revealing two horizontal drawers and a vertical compartment which made up the corner of the armoire.

The first drawer housed a collection of riding crops, rattan canes and razor strops, all of them arranged by length and weight; the second drawer held polished wooden paddles of various hardwoods. And when the corner panel was turned about, an array of dressage whips, switches, and bundles of birches spread out before his disbelieving eyes.

Even now, he remembered teasing his senpai for being a bigger pervert than everyone thought he was; even now, he remembered laughing at himself when his fingers ghosted over the implements and willing away an erection.

‘ _Say what will about me_ ,’ Kakashi told him back then, ‘ _but I hope the day never comes when I’m forced to use any of these for your correction … because I promise Tenzou, you will regret it.’_

That damned bell was getting louder as Hound yanked the end of the leash through the finger grip of the kunai by his foot.

_Thunk!_

The sound of honed steel impacting solid wood drew him back to the present as his arms are wrenched above his head; he had no other choice but to rise on the balls of feet to maintain his balance. Mystified, he watched Hound move swiftly, attaching two shorter leather leads to the one that dangled from the ceiling.

_Thunk! Thunk!_

Two more kunai sunk into the floorboards to his left and right, perfectly equidistant to one another. Hound was a blur as he secured the leads with a D-ring through the finger grips of each kunai.

“There now,” said Hound as he turned to face him, “all is in readiness.”

Loud noises flowed down the hall and spilled into the living room; he and Hound craned their necks in the direction of the room.

The first was the sound of a window as it was prized opened, and then the noise of leaves rustling.

After a moment’s silence, there came other strange sounds - as far as Yamato could tell, it sounded like a stiletto knife flicking open - what followed sounded more like a scythe slicing through tall weeds.

“Sounds like he’s gonna lay into you but good when he gets back,” said Hound while he walked around him, checking the tension of the leads and the integrity of thin leather binds around Yamato’s cock and balls.

The light from down the hall, extinguished now and measured slaps of bare feet approached. The distinctly eerie noise of something thin and reedy cut through the air as Kakashi drew near.

Hound simply laughed and said:

 

"May the gods have mercy on you boy - 'cause Kakashi sure as hell won't."

 

 

NOTES:

Minim: something very small or insignificant.

Cimmerian: very dark; gloomy.

Transude: to pass or ooze through pores, or small holes as a fluid.

Morass: any confusing or troublesome situation, especially one from which it is difficult to free oneself.

Bistre: a brown pigment, extracted from the soot of wood; a yellowish to dark brown color.

Concupiscence: sexual desire, lust; ardent, sensuous longing.

 

 


	14. The Passion and Peril of Turnabout (Part One)

Torn between that which was expedient and right for Tenzou, and that which was hazardous to his own health and safety, Kakashi dropped to his knees before the open armoire.  

_Never thought this day would come again._

_I can only hope Lady Tsunade remembers how to_

_repair the damage._

Time was winding down.  

Rifling through the open container, gathering up what he needed, he stood, nauseous and lightheaded; the chosen implements clutched in sweaty palms, three small scrolls jammed inside his pockets.

Above the noise of the tumblers turning inside the lock, he hears the chains of Hound’s power skitching down the pitch-black hallway - the shadows await him, their teeth sharp as knives, dripping with the venom of Hound’s anger.  His vision dimming as he staggers to the exit, scarcely enough strength in his fingers to switch off the lights, reeling under the weight of Hound’s dominant aura.

  _It won’t be long now; the desire to splay open Tenzou’s flesh_

 _will overtake me,_ he thinks.

_Don’t want to enjoy his torment …_

_getting harder to resist the thrill, as Hound grows stronger by the second._

When the sole of his foot makes contact with the cool wood of the hallway, a sensation of pure evil lashes against him, wrapping itself around his limbs; darkness swallows up his feet and legs, the green color of his uniform pants taking on the skin-tight look and feel of ANBU blacks.

Inch by inch, Hound’s animus crawls toward his waist, sucking out what remains of his will as it drags him closer to the living room.

Down and down he sinks into a quagmire of Hounds thoughts and plans.

This battle isn’t physical - that much he understands, and yet he digs in his heels as a means of resisting the pull to an invisible scrimmage - hoping the opportunity presents itself for retreat to a neutral corner of his mind, as the icy mesh of savagery hedges about him.

He feels Hound’s presence beside him, the smell of blood so strong in his nostrils he can almost taste it.

 _“I don’t know why you bother,”_ Hound whispers.  “ _You can’t escape me._

_Surrender now, or I will take you by force.”_

Striking out with one of the switches, he sliced through the hellish mirage. Inside his chest, the growl of an edacious carnivore builds, thundering as it rises to his throat.

_I’ve wasted too much time!_

Emerging from darkness into the light of the living room where his alter ego stands before a strung up Tenzou, the final jolt of negative energy spears through his body.  Hound’s miasma drenches him with wave after boiling wave of monomania - indecisiveness rolls away when he takes his place beside Hound, even as Tenzou’s misty, questioning eyes meet his.

How alluring he looked, standing there, his arms stretched above his head ... his chest heaving with every burning breath - the muscles in his thighs straining as he shifts his weight to the balls of his feet.  And the sight of his cock, so beautifully bound, stirs Kakashi’s flagging erection - igniting a sadistic hunger deep within.

 _Damn it!  It’s too late_.

*****     *****     *****

The _swish_ of a willowy cane slicing through the air, drew his gaze away from the posturing Hound. And at the sound of his captain’s deep growl, every escape jutsu he’d memorized and known from his youth mocked him from behind solid iron bars in the prison of his mind.  

When at last he sees Kakashi, standing near the entrance of the living room, he finds himself fighting back the urge to vomit, even as his cock swells against its restraints.  Terrified when his captain strode toward Hound, so tall and proud - the blood cycling through his veins ran cold when his eyes land on the objects his captain held.

In his right hand - two switches, freshly skinned and pliable; the crooks of two wickedly thin canes, swing from the fingers of his left hand.

_Oh, god!_

_I hoped this day would never come;_

_I’ve pushed him to a point where this was his only option._

Under Kakashi’s heated glare, his body warms and his cock perks up as another wave of malice flows from Hound’s body.

And as they stand side by side, both Hound and Kakashi’s Sharingan open wide - ‘the eye that reflects the heart,’ reveals nothing but lust … a lust for blood.  

Six tomoes slowly spin, recording every twitch of his muscles and every bead of perspiration welling up on his skin.

Stunned, he watches Kakashi hand off both a cane and a switch to Hound; horror-struck, he almost swallowed his tongue when he heard his captain say:

“The former rules are no longer in effect, Hound-san.  You may do as you please.”

His brain squeals to a halt as he mouths the words which decline vocalization:

_No … please, don’t!_

Behind the canine styled mask, an eerie laugh breaks free, though Hound makes no move to accept the gifts from Kakashi’s hand.

“I’m deeply honored,” Hound said, affecting a polite bow.

“But if it’s alright with you, I’d rather watch him dance for a while.”

Kakashi smiles and dips his head slightly.

 “However, since I am at liberty,” he said, reaching inside his waistband, “I’m sure the quirt will suit my needs better than those flimsy things.”

 _This has gone too far;_ he thinks struggling to free his wrists.

_If I don't say or do something now, I'll never bring him back to himself._

The strength and tone of his own voice surprised him. 

“For god’s sake senpai!

 Get a hold of yourself – snap out of it!”

The very second that last syllable flew from his lips, Hound’s masked face appears before his eyes.  With the force of a mighty open handed blow, he sees stars as his head snaps to the right.

“You watch that mouth of yours, boy,” hissed Hound.

 “I’m in the game now.”

Heedless of the warning, Yamato knew only seconds remained before Kakashi was swallowed whole by Hound's personality. 

“Kakashi ... I beg you … don’t do this!”

From the sneer on his captain’s lips and the austere look on his face, it was obvious his words fell on unhearing ears. His heart withered when he saw him take a step forward and then backward; the hand raised to stop Hound, listlessly dropping back to his side.

_Dear god!_

_I stood a fighting chance when Kakashi was in his right mind,_

_but now …_

“Hound-san, kindly step away from him,” he finally said.  “I need to answer his plea directly.”

Hound jumped back as the sound of a switch screamed through the air; a thin line of incapacitating heat cut into the side of Yamato’s left thigh, and as he gasped for breath, the whistle of a cane screeched in his ears seconds before it left a burning welt on the side of his right thigh.

Instinctively, his body folds in upon itself, a sad offensive move– but Hound would not let him stay that way for long.

A black leather hand wraps around the front of his throat and his head is forced upward as he fights to breathe; the porcelain mask warmed by Hound’s breath presses against his chilled cheek.

“Take a good look at your captain, boy; he’s like a man possessed.

I wouldn’t egg him on, if I were you.

I’ll do my best to make him go easy on you,

 but you have to cooperate with me.”

“Who's being a pussy now, Hound-san? Don't waste my time trying to protect him from the punishment he deserves,” they heard Kakashi say.  “He repeatedly held back information when we gave him ample opportunity to speak … he chose to spit in the face of our generosity.  And now, the only fitting reward for his stubbornness ...

is pain.”

  
Once more Hound leapt out of the path of the incoming switch - it's tip cuts through the static air, leaving a ruby red line of blinding agony directly above the previous one on his right thigh.

"Sure you don’t want to use one of these, Hound-san?   I find the switch adds a bit of spice to his otherwise boring dance routine - watch closely,” he said as he transfers the remaining implements to his left hand.

All told, four puffy lines of searing red are precisely laid across the front of each thigh.

While Yamato stiffly moved, dancing away the pain, he heard Hound say:

“Hmm … you get a little side to side movement with the switch, but,” whipping the quirt’s lashes around Tenzou’s caged member, “this brings him up on his toes and makes him arch his back quite handsomely.”

“Ah, I see your point, Hound-san” he said, laying another stripe across Yamato’s thigh. “Maybe if I come at this from a different angle, he’ll do the little jig I wanted you to see.”

“Kakashi … hang on a minute … this is all wrong; here … let me get him into a better position for you.”

That damn bell started ringing again as Hound wrapped the fallen lead around his left hand.  Moving swiftly, he adjusted the tension on the leather straps secured by the kunai above and the others jammed into the floorboards. While his body is jerked upright, Kakashi stands behind him, his palm lying flat against his kohai’s stomach as he runs the fingers of his other hand over the taut skin of hot, striped buttocks. In a flash, he’d positioned himself that the front of his body was in perfect alignment with Yamato’s back.

Anticipation accentuated arousal.

Lost in the sensation of Kakashi’s bare chest plastered against him, so warm and moist from his exertion …the rough cotton material of his pants, so coarse against his tender thighs, and the hardness pushing itself between his burning cheeks, Yamato barely caught the words Kakashi whispered under the shell of his ear:

 “Please bear with this a bit longer, Tenzou

 … I have a plan.”

*****     *****     ***** 

 Back and forth, they trade blows - the switch or cane pushing him toward the lashes of the quirt … the quirt’s lashes, pushing him back into the arc of the switch or cane.

The intense pain finally loosens his tongue and soon he was babbling:

“Kakashi . . . please, sir… I’m ready to talk--”

It was enough to still their arms.

Slender fingers tenderly trace the rising crisscross welts which left no quarter of his buttocks and thighs untouched.

“Well now, Tenzou … that’s a bit of bad timing, isn’t it?  Here you stand, motivated to spill your guts.” Once more Kakashi positions himself tightly against Yamato’s back – his arm encircling his waist, his left hand skimming down, brushing over his restrained cock.  “And here am I,” he said, as his fingers danced upward, stopping only to pinch and twist a hardened nipple. “Fed up with your bullshit, completely unmoved by your sorry ass pleas.”

Trapped between the desire for more stimulation, Yamato unashamedly grinds his ass into the growing bulge in his captain’s pants; in the blink of an eye, the quirt’s lashes reach between his slightly spread legs.

Slumping over, he’s gasping for breath again, when another flurry of strikes land across his buttocks and the backs of his thighs.

“Guess I’ll revise my earlier opinion,” Hound said.

“He is a pretty good dancer after all.”

“Obviously, your presence inspires him to greatness. Now, do stand up correctly, Tenzou … your dance routine is far from over.”

The slightest movements provoke the loudest grunts as he repositions himself - immediately, the whistle of the cane or a switch, he can no longer distinguish, lays a series of seven more lines across his reddening cheeks.

“Have we finally made you regret your disobedience, Tenzou?”  Four more strikes land in rapid succession and Kakashi’s husky voice caresses his ear. “Shall we continue our interrogation or is there something you can’t wait to tell us?”

A lone teardrop skids down a sepia cheek – the words tumbling from his mouth ere he could make sense of them, or make them make sense.

“Resting between patrols,” he shouted over the music of the switch, the cane and the quirt.  “So far away …  couldn't sense enemy’s presence ... all I could see was Hound’s back.  Leaning against a tree … thought he was injured … was just taking a piss.”

Louder and louder, the switch and cane cut through the air, striking randomly - deeper and deeper, the quirt’s lashes bite into the flesh of his bound cock.

“Closed my eyes …  imagining what Hound’s cock … looked like ... started thinking what it might feel like to hold his . . . cock in my hands.  Wondered … how it would feel … his cock in my mouth … what it would taste like … when he came.”

Unbeknownst to him, Hound and Kakashi are exchanging knowing glances as they continue their barrage.

“Flopped down in the high grasses ...  jerked off … caught up in my imagination … wasn’t aware of my surroundings ... when I came . . .  the enemy had me cornered.   it Stupid ... dangerous ... I'm sorry sir!”

Instantly, the songs of the switch, cane and quirt cease; a gloved finger lifts his bowed down head.

 “Hate to break it to you, boy, but what you saw leaning against the tree was a clone;

I was sittin’ on a tree branch right above you … I saw everything.

That’s right … your captain knows all about it too.

What we don’t know, is why you would do something that stupid.”

 “Your confession is out in the open," Kakashi said, as he walks toward Hound, "and that changes everything.”

"In other words, now comes the fun part," Hound tells them as he slaps the quirt against his palm. 

"So, you want me shove my cock down your throat until you choke, is that right, my little nasty boy?”

Still catching his breath, Yamato averts his eyes. 

 _Yes, god yes,_ he wanted to say.  _Throat fucked to death ...what a way to go,_ he thought as his eyes raked down and land on the growing bulge inside Hound's pants.

Kakashi laughed and clapped his arm over Hound’s shoulder, his eye hungrily drinking in the sight of Tenzou's pained erection.

“Now, now, Hound-san, let's not tease him.  He’s already embarrassed and so close to cumming.  And yet there’s still truth that needs telling ... isn’t there, Tenzou?”

  
The sound of a cane slices through the air once more.

 

NOTES:

 Animus: strong dislike or enmity; hostile attitude.

Edacious: devouring, voracious, consuming.

Miasma: a dangerous, foreboding, or death-like influence.

Monomania: a psychosis characterized by thoughts confined to one idea or group of ideas; an inordinate or obsessive zeal for or interest in a single thing, idea, subject, or the like.

 


	15. The Passion and Peril of Turnabout (Part Two)

 

“Yes, senpai … there _is_ more,” he heard himself say.

A limbic system in limbo – a mental power outage, where communications are jammed between sensory and motor neurons; it was an effect of the Sharingan he’d heard tell of, yet never before experienced. More powerful than a kamikaze, his body awash in the frothy foam of endorphins and dopamine, the sensations of relief, cleansing and rejuvenation link arms with a haunting sense of loss, a gritty feeling of filthiness and an uncomfortable wooziness as he leans against the leather leads for support.

Pride and a sense of accomplishment hopscotch through his muscles, granting him strength to grab hold the overhead restraints as he pulls himself up to his full height.

One minute he’s congratulating himself for enduring thus far … and in the span of a blink, he's berating himself for having enjoyed what they'd dished out - loathing the neediness within that begged for more.

Led on a chivy by the charmingly schizophrenic Kakashi, he’d given himself over to the continued euphoric symphony of the high pitched whistles of the switch and cane and the piercing swipes of the quirt. In anticipation of reward, he dares initiate eye contact - first with Kakashi and then with Hound’s static mask as they stand before him … the implements of correction, loosely held in their hands as they return his confused glare.  Their respective Sharingan, skipping over the goosebumps rising under his skin ... storing images of his body into their collective memory bank.

From the beginning and up to this point in the helter-skelter excursion of sensations, the singular emotion of fear remained consistent – he knew a pause in the action didn’t mean cessation of punishment, especially since Hound was _‘in the game.’_

 _So, this what insanity feels like_ , he inwardly laughed. _Now if only I could stop myself from talking so much … I’d be golden._

It was but a pipe dream, for the hypnotic power of the Sharingan had already broken open the fount of truth; without his consent, penetralia of his thought life bubbled up unexpectedly … gushing forth unrestrained both for Kakashi’s inspection and Hound’s disparagement.

 _No matter_ , he comforted himself when he sucked in another breath.   _From tonight onward, I’m a free man… the burden of hiding my feelings will no longer weigh me down._ And with that thought, the shaky smile on his lips grows broader.

“This last mission,” he began, “with our targets inactive for so many hours on end, my mind wandered. I knew Hound was conducting surveillance … I knew I was _safe …_ knew I had to do something to relieve the boredom.”

There was an irritated yank on the length of leather attached to his cock and balls which set that wretched bell ringing again as Hound's laughter floated to the rafters.  

“I made you feel _safe_ huh? What the hell is with you, boy?

After all this time,” he said as the quirt slashed through the air, why is that

you still refuse to see me as the monster that I am?”

His aim was unerring and vicious, striking at an untouched area on the underside of his balls, but this time when his legs gave way, Kakashi was there - a warm arm wrapping around his waist, holding him close to his body. Incredible as that was, right smack in the center of his captain’s eye, Yamato saw a flicker of the mercy he wanted … needed beforetime.

He’s shaking his head slowly, unable to suppress the motion; his tongue, thick and heavy, his voice raspy as he slurs the words which once for all rejects the mercy he assumed Kakashi was offering.

“Not a monster, Hound-taichou,” he said. “I know you, sir … I trust you.”

“And I know you too, boy …

you’re a pathetic excuse for a shinobi,

just like your spineless leader.”

The warmth of his captain’s body clings to him still, even as Kakashi backs away; maintaining his silence, he watches Yamato writhe and shimmy when the quirt’s lashes repeatedly strike at their chosen targets.

When he senses his body can take no more, Kakashi suddenly reaches out, catching the lashes in mid-arc.

"I believe you’ve made your point, Hound-san,” he calmly says. “That's enough; Tenzou’s obviously punchy … doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“Ah yes … now entering stage right, the fearless, dutiful captain, come to save the damsel in distress.”

“You go too far, Hound-san.”

“Protecting your little kohai ... predictable, it'll be your job forever won’t it? Well, let me tell you something … an alternate ending to this little playacting.   For one thing, your boy doesn't want to be rescued."

A brief struggle ensues for control over the quirt and from where he’s standing, he can feel the shaking of their arms as they play tug of war with the little leather whip; he also senses a reawakening of something in Kakashi … determination?

Enraged Kakashi durst interrupt his fun and most unwilling to cede his dominance, Hound violently tugs at the leash wrapped around his other fist. "Now, let me show what’ll happen if you stand between me and him again.”  The heat of Hound’s rage pushed him and Kakashi a step backward as his captain’s hands flew up around his ears. 

“Let’s be clear about one thing,” he snarled.

“I don’t give a shit about you or him.

Getting my revenge is the only thing that matters.

Are we finally understood, boy?”

 Above the maddening sound of his heart shattering and that freaking bell, a timid “Yes, sir,” was heard.

He could see the muscles quivering in Kakashi’s arms and back as he stepped aside.

And his time, since Kakashi wasn’t there to prop him up when the lashes licked at his swollen shaft, Yamato hung his head in the locks of his shoulders as his body wilted.

*****     *****     *****

 

When at last the noise of the bell ceased and the heaviness of the weights eased, Yamato caught snippets of their angry whispers between his ragged breathing; it wasn’t enough to know exactly what they were plotting, but there was an edge to Kakashi’s voice, a curtness which suggested Hound’s influence over him was weakening.

And after much effort to lift his head, he’s relieved to see the scowl crumbling from his captain's face when the shutter of a pale eyelid hides his Sharingan.

“Tenzou, we’re agreed … what you did was remarkably selfish and --”

“Yes ... I know, Kakashi-senpai. That’s why I was willing to accept whatever discipline you dictated--”

“ _Willing to accept?”_ Hound snorts, as he pushed Kakashi from his side.

 _“Selfish?_ Is that all it was?”

Gliding from Kakashi’s side and directly into Yamato’s personal space Hound stood before him - his chest puffed out and fists grinding into his hips, he growled,

“What you did boy, is called _dereliction of duty_.

Runnin’ off to pleasure yourself during a recon mission …

it’s the same as treason in my book.”

 “Settle down,” Kakashi chided. “It isn’t as if we were at war, Hound-san.”

Whirling about, his voice reaching outside the mask - grabbing hold of Kakashi’s nonexistent collar, he spat:

“I put my life on the line shielding this nimrod!

Nah,” he said, advancing on Kakashi,

“he owes me and I’m gonna make him pay.”

Yamato counted himself fortunate - Hound couldn’t see how his voice and body language affected him - shivering with want, his toes curling as they scrabbled for traction on the smooth floorboards, he was a steaming hot mess. Add to that, he was fully aware that his body was completely exposed to Kakashi’s roaming eye. That steely gaze, which held a mixture of anger and curiosity, set his ass cheeks clenching, his waning energy channeled into staving off impending ejaculation.

“Mind you now, I understand where you’re coming from too,” was Kakashi’s cool response to the agitated Hound.  “But according to peacetime rules, discipline lies in the hands of the squad leaders.  The wrong Tenzou committed was addressed … he’s been punished enou --”

“Fuck you Kakashi!

You’re acting as if he’s some hot blooded teenager

that can’t control himself!”

 Something about seeing the quirt’s lashes swinging wildly as Hound gestured toward him prompted Yamato to speak up.

“You’re right ... Hound-taichou … I knew better.” Words clawed at his throat, demanding immediate exit as Hound turned to face him. “Had you reported this … incident to the Hokage, my fate would have been far worse.”

Still seething, Hound haughtily retook his place beside his captain, though not before bumping his shoulder into Kakashi’s chest when he turned about.

“Your kohai is smarter than he looks,” he muttered.

“Wish I could say the same for you … jackass.”

Marginally lifting his head, his vision still blurry, Yamato stared at what he hoped were the static red lines on Hound’s mask. “But there’s something else,” he breathed, “something about the two of you that drives me … makes me --”  

“Hold it! You tryin’ to say it’s _our_ fault

you can’t keep your dick in your pants, boy?”

“No, sir … it’s a personality flaw - a defect if you will. A fault that led me to petition the Sandaime ...  I wanted ... needed transfer from under your command.”

Another sharp jerk of the leash left him panting.

“Aww ... poor little _Tenzou …_

wants us to feel sorry for him,

because he’s the only shinobi in this village

with a fucked up personality.”

“I think the pot just called the skillet black,” quipped Kakashi. “Alright now, Hound-san you’ve had your fun … let’s get him untied.”

“That’s it? We’re done?”

Kakashi, who was starting to look and act more like himself, simply folded his arms across his chest and nodded. “Tenzou’s stubborn, he’s flippant and at times, he’s downright recalcitrant … but he never lies.  So yes, Hound-san ... I believe our work here is done.”

The quiet shift in authority was almost like watching a spoiled child whose favorite toy was snatched away. Hound tucked his hands under his armpits and cut his eyes at Kakashi. It was hard to difficult to discern whether this was part of their scheme or if Hound was buying time … waiting for an opportunity to overthrow Kakashi.

“You’re making a huge mistake,” he huffed.

Letting him off this easily is gonna come back to bite you in the butt … you’ll see.”

“On the contrary Hound-san. We can’t very well enjoy the rest of our fun if he’s strung up like a Christmas goose, now can we?”

“Wanna bet?”

 


	16. The Passion and Peril of Turnabout (Part Three)

In one swift movement, Hound dropped the end of the leash and stuffed the quirt’s handle inside his waistband. Stepping around Kakashi and grumbling under his breath, he stood before the juncture where the restraints met.

“Better get in front of him,

or he’ll fall flat on his face when I cut him loose.”

Freedom … nearer than it had ever been, sent his emotions into a tail spin, but Hound’s next move damn near stopped his heart.

With Kakashi drawing closer, Hound flipped up his mask, removing it completely as he allowed its straps to dangle over the quirt’s lashes.

Yamato couldn’t breathe … wasn’t sure if he ever needed to again.

As Hound stood there, a look of sheer concentration on his face while he studied the restraints and Kakashi within arm’s reach wearing a faint smile on his lips – it was too much visual stimulation for his mind to process.

Once more, long held secrets spilled from his lips.  

“Until I met you Kakashi-senpai … I lived a sheltered life; I was young, impressionable ... distrustful of anyone wanting to befriend me for who I was and not just for what I could do --”

“Shush now, Tenzou,” Kakashi said. We’ll have plenty of time for --”

“No,” he said sharply shaking his head. “No, sir… have to get this off my chest!”

He closes his eyes as Kakashi cups his chin, leaning into the gentle touch of the thumb stroking across his lips. “You spared my life, not once, but twice after my orders conflicted with yours, senpai. After that, my respect for you grew … I valued your friendship … was grateful for the lessons you taught me in battle … and in life.   I admired you as well, Hound-taichou,” he called out to the man fumbling with the restraints.   “But as I got older ... my feelings for you and Hound-san veered off in a weird direction.”

Looking up from his work, Hound chuckled, saying:

“It’s a common psychosis known as hero worship;

happens to us all the time, doesn’t it, Kakashi?”

Though he disregarded Hound’s boastful claim, Yamato could feel it, something stirring in the air around his captain; the shudder that raced through his captain's body as Hound teased … was frightening. He could see it … and it gave him pause, it was as if the fog in Kakashi’s mind was dissipating as Hound’s control over him slipped a few notches.

Looking deeply into Kakashi’s eye, making note of the alterations in his breathing, Yamato whispered, “Back then, I was afraid …afraid if I told you how I felt … you’d ridicule me. Scared to death… if I told I needed to get away from you … you’d hate --”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Hound yelled.

“You’re making me sick to my stomach!”

Wiping away a tear from the corner of his kohai’s eye, Kakashi lowered his voice saying, “We haven’t much time.”

They were standing so close now ... he could feel Kakashi digging around for something inside his front pants pocket.

“Tenzou, you have to snap out of it.  It’s imperative you trust me and do as I ask quickly.”

No sooner than Yamato opened his mouth to respond, Kakashi slipped two objects between his parted lips. From the bitter taste of the first one, he realized it was a powerful chakra restorative pill. The second one, overly sweet, was a food pill.  Though his addled brain couldn’t understand why Kakashi would mix these two extremely potent medications, he happily swallowed them down dry.

“Hound-san,” Kakashi said over his shoulder. “In the spirit of fairness, don’t you think it’s time we tell _him_ the truth too?” 

Winding another length of leather around his hand, Hound glanced up at them saying,

“Long as I get what I want,

I don’t give a damn what you do.”

With Hound’s fixation on recompense, time was Kakashi’s fiercest foe – no quarter was there left for miscalculations.

“It was me, Tenzou," he said, "I asked Lady Tsunade to pair us up for this mission.  I had to know whether my feelings had changed over the years.”

His mind still a soupy mix, he cocked his head to the side. “Sir?”

Try as he might, Kakashi couldn’t look into those questioning brown eyes just now … couldn’t blurt out the words still forming in his mind. A furtive glance cast over his shoulder at the sound of thick leather zipping through a D-ring while Hound hurried through his tasks … the pained look on Tenzou’s face, when the pull across his shoulders was lessened and the agony of waiting for those military ration pills to have an effect – these combined concerns found release through a deep, weary sigh.

“When you came from the Foundation, Tenzou … you had average ninjutsu and taijutsu skills. I’d already vouched for your trustworthiness and the Sandaime seemed to think we’d work well together. But I knew there were some … ingrained behavioral traits I had to help you get rid of; things that would have hindered your growth as a shinobi.”  

Kakashi was holding Yamato’s head upright with both hands now, physically forcing him to focus.

“Back then, I always made sure to correct you publicly or at least, somewhere within the confines of ANBU headquarters. It wasn’t that I wanted to humiliate you … though I’m sure I did. It was more like I couldn’t trust …”

Lowering his gaze, his jaw tense, Kakashi swallowed hard and continued, “What I’m trying to say is -I was afraid too, Tenzou,” he whispered. “I was afraid of myself and … what I was capable of.”

“Think we can speed this soap opera up a bit?” Hound wondered aloud,

“I can feel the bile backing up in my gut.”

Kakashi bit back a laugh as his hold on his kohai’s jaws lightened. Gone was the timidity of moments past as he lifted his head. “Tenzou, you remember the times when I brought you back here … for more …intensive correction?”

Confused, Yamato nodded his head.

“I brought you into my home because … I needed a plausible reason to see you … naked, ashamed – aroused. I had to give myself an excuse … and freedom to run my hands over your body --”

“I swear to the gods,” Hound chimed in as he knelt before one of the kunai.

“If you keep blowing smoke up his ass, I’m gonna blow chunks any second.

Listen up, _Tenzou …_ here’s the deal.

I wanted to keep you on as my little fuck toy…

but he wouldn't let me - claimed it would confuse you.

Even back then, Kakashi knew you preferred me over him

and damned if your actions didn’t reinforce that truth tonight.”

“Yes, well, it all sounds pretty ridiculous when it's said aloud,” added Kakashi with a hollow laugh, “but that's how I felt, Tenzou … back then.”

“Your captain never liked the idea of competition,” said Hound while he slowly released the tension which kept Yamato’s arms aloft.

“Especially when said competition is a part of himself.”

The heavy leather leads slap down against the floor and he staggers into Kakashi’s embrace.

“It's true, Tenzou, I always knew how you felt about us.  But I chose to believe it was nothing more than a crush one develops on their mentor.” Dropping his gaze to the floor again, he went on to say, “I went through a similar phase with my first team leader, Minato-sensei. And like it had with me, I knew that crush would soon pass.”

His bound wrists are the only things separating their bodies now, as Kakashi hugs him closer.

“Somewhere along the path of life, I realized what I felt for you went beyond physical and sexual attraction. That’s what scared me most.”

On the other side of the room, Hound was making retching noises while he gathered up the additional restraints and shoved them back inside the abandoned utility pouch.

That little speech wasted just enough time for the chakra enhancements to kick in properly and as they did, Yamato felt the veracity of his captain’s words working their way into his heart. Clarity of mind came with a price –intensification of the pain. It was brief and easily ignored as he felt his body melting into Kakashi’s.

“Since I knew and understood how you felt, Tenzou, I couldn’t bring myself to touch you in an overtly sexual way,” Kakashi whispered beside his ear. “Desire for you aside, it was my responsibility to prevent anyone from taking advantage of you … even if,” he said inclining his head toward Hound, “even if that _anyone_ happened to be me.”

Firm hands gripped him by the shoulders, allowing Kakashi to look him straight in the eye when he said, “Know this, Tenzou. These last twelve years … I never stopped thinking about you … never stopped inquiring after your progress and well-being.”

 That was as close to a confession of love as Yamato would get outside of a deathbed or in the dust of a battlefield. He’d take it. It was a confirmation he didn’t realize he needed until now. He’d cling to it for dear life.

In one breath, Kakashi’s words sopped up and completely obliterated twelve years of longing, loneliness and regret.

“Well then,” Kakashi said as he blotted away beads of sweat aiming to obscure Yamato’s vision, “now that we’ve thoroughly embarrassed ourselves and sickened Hound, let’s get you out these other wrappings.”

Dropping down to one knee, he quickly released the weights attached to the lead, casting them aside with a tiny growl. He took his time releasing the binds around Yamato’s wrists, massaging and manipulating his fingers until normal circulation returned.

But once freed, Yamato wasn’t sure what to do with his hands; standing at attention with his arms by his sides seemed ridiculous at this point. Knowing Hound would react violently if he felt Kakashi was being touched inappropriately, Yamato kept his eyes on the grumbling Hound as he moved about the room, returning the implements to their proper places in the box near where the chair once sat.

He boldly reached out, letting his palms rest atop Kakashi's shoulders.

“I’m gonna shift my position a bit,” Kakashi said. “Sure you’ll be able to stand on your own, Tenzou?”

“I … I don’t think so, sir.”

Again, Kakashi moved slowly, this time freeing him from the improvised cage.

“Hound rightly said earlier that I wouldn’t allow sexual relations between us … it wasn’t because I didn’t find you attractive … but, I was afraid of … forming another attachment to anyone back then. Lost too many friends over the years,” he said as his warm hands gently ran along the folds of Yamato’s cock and balls. “Couldn’t handle losing someone else … I cared for.”

While his body thrust his hips forward, his mind screamed that he had to pull away or he'd never live down the embarrassment.  In the end, he held back mid thrust mumbling, "Umm …. Kakashi-senpai? Maybe you shouldn’t … do this … right now … not sure if I can--”

“Don’t you want to cum, Tenzou?”

“Yes sir, but--”

“Then shut up and let me do this.”

*****

He was sure he’d bite a hole in his cheek if he kept watching that slender, ivory hand knead his flesh, but he was far too mesmerized by the sight of the purpled head of his cock, disappearing and reappearing each time Kakashi stroked his red striped shaft.   And though he desperately wanted to keep his eyes open, emblazoning the image of Kakashi’s smug grin in the forefront of his mind, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Hound again – this time he was standing stock still, equally transfixed while he rubbed the quirt’s lashes over his own erection.

That was the tipping point.

His fingers tangled in a soft nest of silvery strands, not wanting to interrupt the rhythm of the adroit fingers stroking his cock and gently squeezing his balls, but at the precise moment when Kakashi licked his lips -  everything went brilliant white before his eyes.  As his nails dug into Kakashi’s scalp … his balls, unbearably seize up as creamy ropes of ejaculate shoot over and dribble down his captain’s shoulder.

The scream of release wrenched from his throat, sounded more like it came from a wild animal as his knees buckled.

And when at last he opened his eyes, his cheek rested against chiseled pectorals.

“Better now?” Kakashi asked against the crown of his head.

Three attempts to stand upright fail miserably and whatever it was that he murmured, set Kakashi’s chest shaking with laughter.

He’s firmly on his feet now with his body pressed as close as he can get to Kakashi and like a sleepy cat, Yamato inches closer still, until his chin hooks over the ledge of a warm shoulder, his head lolling beside the strong column of his captain's neck.

Right now he can count every small callous … feel every tiny loop and whorl of the fingers skipping over the skin on his back – he can describe in detail every contour and every pulsation of the hardness pressing into his belly and yet ... he couldn’t remember his own name even if his life depended on it.

Warm breaths ruffle his hair when their contact is temporarily broken – the same measured breaths alight on his lips for a split second when Kakashi timidly kisses him. 

And as their lips part, his captain whispers a command that was at once inconceivable and terrifying.

“It’s the only way out, Tenzou,” he said.

“Don’t overthink it – just be prepared to follow my orders.”

 

Notes:

Kamikaze: (Japanese) – meaning “divine wind.”

Penetralia: the most private or secret things; the innermost parts or recesses of a place or thing.

Chivy: (British) – to run about, to chase.

Beforetime: (archaic) – formerly.

Durst: (archaic) – have necessary courage for something.

Stubborn: unreasonably obstinate, fixed; resolute.

Recalcitrant: resisting authority, not obedient or compliant; hard to deal with.

Flippant: frivolously disrespectful, lacking in seriousness; characterized by levity.

Pretty sure you don’t care about all this jazz, but I have to get it out of my head. The limbic system is a network of the brain’s structures involved in emotion, learning and memory. Basically, it operates by influencing the endocrine and autonomic nervous systems; it’s interconnected with the brain’s pleasure center which plays a major role in sexual arousal. Endorphins (molecules, neuropeptides, or nature’s morphine), inhibit the transmission of pain signals and produce a feeling of euphoria – dopamine which is a neurotransmitter, plays a critical role in the function of the central nervous system. It’s linked to the brain’s complex system of motivation, reward and the behaviors associated with anticipation of reward.

 

 


	17. Quiet Before The Storm

Would that he could remain like this ... just a while longer.  

Reality altered as the silken strands of redemption and release bound them closer, their breaths and heartbeats in sync and time’s passage measured by the click of Hound’s strident footfalls. His fantasy disrupted as the soldier pills worked their magic - physiologically energizing him, burning away the mental fog and providing strength to his wobbly legs. The chest pressed against his rises and falls as the voice beside his ear murmurs … the words spoken, he caught but a few as Kakashi cuts asunder their sweaty connection.

“Sure you won't tip over when I let go, Tenzou?”

He was certain he'd barked out a cavalier laugh and said ‘yes,’ or at least he meant to - it was hard to concentrate, what with Kakashi coyly smiling at him as he held him at arm's length and Hound coldly glaring while he stalked the length and breadth of the room.  

_Amazing how the truth works,_ he thought, his eyes following the curve of Hound's ass when he stormed off to a far corner of the room.

Truth was, though Kakashi and Hound shared the same body, which he craved, the scales of his favor always dipped toward Hound and the raw sexuality he embodied. It was an ugly truth which Hound rubbed in his face tonight and an undeniable verity which sparked jealousy in Kakashi.

_What was I thinking? Hound never could be trusted, especially when an opportunity comes along to inflict pain._

And for the first time in memory, when the pangs of disgust and loathing rev up his pulse, their target this time was the unmasked man pacing toward the mouth of the hallway; with his hands clasped behind his back and his scowl deepening with each step, Yamato knew that smoke screen of Hound's charade was soon to blow over or blow up.  And when it did even Kakashi wouldn’t be safe. And knowing Hound as well as he did, he could feel that in abeyance his fury lay … weakened somehow … but certainly not yet satiated.

For countless years he’d tolerated Hound’s complete disregard for his comfort and privacy … he’d swallowed down the contempt behind his actions and drank down every one of his arsenic laced words, believing it was only what he deserved.  And yet when Yamato looked deeply into his captain’s eye, the twinkle of kindness he saw there made him realize what a fool he’d been.

_Kakashi ... was always the one who stimulated and engaged my mind - he was the one who stepped outside his comfort zone, slowly drawing back the curtain and letting me witness the ‘whys’ and ‘wherefores’ which drive his actions._

_Ah, but Hound, damn it …  he’s the pebble dropped into in the deep, still and murky waters of my soul, the mediator of confusion and frustration betwixt our tortured souls; me and Kakashi, prisoners of algolagnia and Hound ... the prize I’ll never possess._

An expected side effect of the soldier pills left him trembling, not with fear, but rage for ever having doubted his captain.

“Settle down now, Tenzou, I'm sure we’re all anxious for the next step,” Kakashi said, his fingers lightly brushing over the raised stripes on his kohai’s thigh, “but these need tending to first.”

“Leave it till later,” Hound turned and growled.  “Pain … it’ll help him remember his stupidity … ‘sides, he aint bleedin’ that much.”

“His skin’s broken, Hound-san.  I promise, I'm more concerned about preventing infection than I am about lessening his pain,” Kakashi replied, when the specialized ANBU medical scroll slips from his fingers.  With a small pop of chakra, the scroll fluttered to the ground, unfurling at Yamato’s feet, its surface lined with neat rows of salves, jars of creams and vials of oils.

Bending down to retrieve one of the small blue jars, Kakashi warned, “This particular ointment is gonna burn like hell, Tenzou.  Might want to brace yourself.  Meanwhile … mind fetching the chair for me, Hound-san?”

If looks really could kill, Kakashi would fallen dead the end of that sentence – for the smokescreen was lifting, revealing Hound as the monster he professed being.

Metal spikes claw at the floorboards when he stomps toward the kitchen.  “All this kindness bullshit is getting tiresome, Kakashi,” he spat.  The chair, its wood splintering under the force of Hound’s boot, crazily spun to a halt near the utility pouch. “How much longer you gonna make me wait?”

The smug little smile, and slowly raised eyebrow Kakashi gave when he turned to face his alter ego drove Hound further into the kitchen, cursing up a storm as he traversed over the linoleum tiles.

*******     *****     *******

A few minutes or perhaps it was an hour later, Yamato couldn't tell … didn't care to know as he watched Kakashi kneel before him, his hands gingerly slathering the front and sides of his thighs with a thick yellow salve.

“Now isn’t the time for second thoughts, Tenzou,” he whispered. “We both know Hound’s ready to snap and I need to know that you’re going back me up.”

“Are you sure this is the only way, Kakashi?”

“Guess we’ll find out at the same time, Tenzou.”

The fact that Hound had gone quiet after disappearing inside the kitchen combined with the slight tremors he felt in the hand gliding over his flesh gave Yamato hope that Hound at last was defeated and the process of reabsorption into Kakashi's body was underway.

He was nervously weaving to and fro, trying not to laugh or blush while his captain applied cream to his tender scrotum, when regretfully he heard Kakashi say:

“There, that oughta do it.”

Kakashi seemed unsteady as he rose, hesitant as walked to where the chair crookedly sat, and downright nervous when he took his seat.  Soon afterward, he was all smiles and sunny confidence when he patted his thigh, the unspoken signal for Yamato to drape himself across his lap.

“But sir, I thought --”

“Your punishment _is_ over … come along now, over you go.   I wanna take care of those welts on your butt and the backs of your thighs.”

“Ah, for crap’s sake,” Hound snapped when he emerged from the other room.  “Don't tell me you’re gonna heal him, are you?”

“Of course not - I’m just making things easier for us,” he said, repositioning Yamato’s body so that one of his legs was now straddling his captain’s knee.  

“Hold your temper Hound-san and think about this.  Suppose Lady Tsunade notices Tenzou’s gap-legged gait, or what if she sees him having difficulty sitting down and getting up?  Can you imagine how she’ll react when we she realizes we didn’t follow regulations, opting for a hot soak instead of trotting off to the hospital for a post mission check-up?” Noting Hound’s sour reaction, he hastened to add, “Perhaps, you’d like the honor of explaining our rationale to her?”

“Sounds like a job you’ll have to tackle all by yourself … _Captain.”_

Yamato stifled down a laugh; his body flinching when he saw the tips of Hound’s boots approaching the chair’s leg.

 “As for me,” said Hound, grabbing a fistful of Yamato’s hair and yanking his head up, “I’m tired of waiting for you to get your shit together, Kakashi.

My fun starts right now.”

*******     *****     *******

Yamato had but a moment to look up into those handsomely deranged eyes, before his face was smashed against the black fabric of Hound’s crotch.  His breathing hitched up a notch when Hound’s thick, semi hard cock rubbed itself over his lower lip and when the earthy scent of arousal wriggled itself into his nostrils, Yamato briefly struggled as his own cock violently jerked against Kakashi’s inner thigh.

“How ‘bout it, boy?  You were so curious to examine me earlier,” said Hound while he wrestled with his zipper, “Go on then, show me what a good little cocksucker you are.”

_Shit!  After that big talk about wanting this, I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do now!_

“ _Oh please, as if we’ve never had a blow job before,”_ pooh-poohed his brain. 

_“Mimic what the bathhouse whores do to you and if Hound doesn’t like it, he’ll let you know.”_

Immediately, Yamato arched his back, eschewing the awkwardness of his position, he steadied himself with his palm against the floor and reached out with his other hand, tentatively grabbing hold of Hound’s cock; his tongue instinctively flickered out, catching up droplets of pre-cum like a cat having its first taste of cream.  And before he could stop himself, his mouth opened wider … his hand slid down to the base of Hound’s cock that he might draw him in deeper.

Admittedly, things were a bit clumsy; between fighting back an overactive gag reflex each time Hound thrust into his mouth and fretting if his technique was correct, but in the end, it didn’t matter.  Hound seemed to appreciate his amateurish attempts, responding with longer intervals between thrusts. Recalling what he’d done when forced to clean Hound’s glove with his tongue, Yamato relaxed his throat, and sucked harder, his tongue enfolding the hard cock sliding backward and forward over the slippery convex surface.

 And as his spent cock reawakens with vigor, it seemed as if Hound’s moderately paced thrusts over his tongue were spurring Kakashi into deeper exploration.

Add to that, the cool almond scented oil Kakashi was spreading over his buttocks and thighs did have a numbing effect, which eased the slight burn when his slender finger breached Yamato’s unprotected rearguard.  

By now, though Yamato desperately longed to stroke himself – he resisted the urge for fear they’d stop.

Suddenly, a gloved palm slapped against the nape of his neck seconds before Hound’s thrusts became quicker and more forceful.  And without warning, Kakashi withdrew his finger that he might add another ... massaging, searching, filling him.  

Embarrassment leapt out of the way of his voracious libido when the tempo of Kakashi’s fingers inside him changed; it took a few seconds before his mind registered the fact that Kakashi had slipped his other hand down and now, he was firmly stroking his cock while he crooked the fingers inside him upward. 

Pushing back on the fingers which kept bypassing that ultra-sensitive spot just a bit deeper inside, he was edging toward his second orgasm of the night.   And he was happily caught off guard when said orgasm steamrolled over him … but there was little time granted to enjoy afterglow, for a nanosecond later, hot, spicy spurts of Hound’s cum shot down his throat.  

As soon as his mouth went slack, Hound stepped away, his laughter derisive between heavy breaths. Once more the hand wrapped around a goodly amount of his hair yanked his head upward.

“You need more practice, boy,” he said as he tucked himself in and zipped up. “You got the job done, but next time, I expect much better.”

Wiping away the last traces of jizz from his lips with the back of his hand, the retort he so wanted to give was fortunately cut short when Kakashi shouted:

“Now, Tenzou!  Do it now!”

*******     *****     *******

It took a second to catch his breath … and another one to see the look of confused anger flashing over Hound’s face - then he watched, transfixed by the speed at which tendrils of wood snaked through the finger grips of the kunai still embedded in the floor, trapping Hound’s limbs with the suddenness of a striking cobra.

“The fuck are you doing, boy?”

“Following the orders of my captain, _sir._ ”

“That’s right,” Kakashi said with a measure of pride. Gently rolling Yamato from his lap that he might stand, he added, “There isn’t gonna be a ‘next’ time. As a matter of fact, you’ve already overstayed your welcome, Hound-san.”

From his front pocket, Kakashi drew the final scroll and Hound’s eye widened in fear.

In his lifetime, Yamato had seen Hound do many things, but never before had he seen him recoil in terror, from anything or anyone.  Whatever this thing was that Kakashi held in hand was powerful enough to put the fear of god in Hound and that was saying something.

“Are you outta your damn mind?” Hound shouted as he tried in vain to free himself.  “You know that thing will shorten our life, right? Damn it, Kakashi, think about what you’re doing --!”

“I’ve been doing nothing but thinking, Hound-san.”

Rising, Yamato intended to stand behind Kakashi, to present a unified front against their enemy; that was the plan, until a wave of Hound's fury physically pushed him backward. Falling to the floor, he could do nothing but sit there quietly as Kakashi knelt and laid the now open scroll at Hound’s feet.

“It’s for the best, Hound-san … now, either you go back to where you belong by choice, or I will use force.”

This time, Hound literally spit in Kakashi’s face.

“Don’t you dare throw my words back in my face, asshole!”

Looking away from the spittle glistening as it clings to Hound’s chin to where it slithers down Kakashi’s cheek, Yamato realizes his captain was struggling to stand to his feet - the slow drain on his chakra left him with his head bowed and his eyes fighting to remain open; once sure fingers, now clumsily move through the hand signs necessary for activation of the jutsu formula contained in the scroll.  He knew then he had to move quickly or else Hound would surely break free. 

In the blink of an eye, he’s standing by Kakashi’s side – their point of contact burning as he forcibly channels his own chakra into his captain’s body; his hand, shaky against the chilly skin between Kakashi’s shoulder blades as raw power flows through him.

Almost immediately, the imprinted seals leap from the scroll with a frightening howling noise, attaching themselves at various points along the wooden tendrils. Petrified, Yamato watches Hound's body convulses and the screams of Hound’s pain when the seals elongate and anchor themselves into the floor, set his teeth on edge. 

One final shout … one last curse erupts from the lips of the being Yamato idolized,

as the man he once believed indestructible, withers in a dead faint.

Kakashi too looks as if he’ll fall over from the exertion; an unshed tear welling up, ready to spill as he watched a part of himself crumple and die.

In the stillness, at last Yamato finds his voice.  “Senpai,” he breathes, “is he … are you gonna be alright?”

It took a while before he answered, before the shell of his grief finally cracked – when it did, Kakashi threw his arm over his kohai’s shoulder, a wan smile on his lips.

“He’ll be fine, Tenzou. I’m a little weak, but I believe I’ll survive."  His voice, now a hoarse, halting breath, softly teases, “I think we can both do with a lie down, what do you think?”

As they sway and stumble from the living room, their arms linked around the others waist for support, his captain sweeps his hand over one light switch, which leaves Hound in utter darkness; with a flick of his wrist, the other switch provides dim illumination within the hallway.

Kakashi was much paler than usual … his pulse, slow and his eye vacant. It was frightening how frail and worn he looked. "I don't care what you say, Kakashi, you need to go to the hospital."

Another moment's hesitation, a backward glance cast over their shoulders and Kakashi leaned more of his weight onto Yamato.  "You worry too much," he said, "and I don't worry enough.  Just let me get a few hours of rest ...  and I promise ... I'll be back to normal before you know it."

"Just a few hours,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and jovial while shaking his finger at his captain. “Afterwards, if you still look like reheated death, I swear, Kakashi, I'll drag you to the hospital by your nuts."

"Hmm … that does sound tempting, but I'd rather you cooked up a more creative and less violent way to handle my nuts, Tenzou."

*******     *****     *******

As the door to Kakashi's bedroom clicks closed, inside the dark living room comes the sound of sparking electricity … the wrath of the Raikiri, illumines the tiny pitch black room as Hound’s eyes snap open … the blood red Sharingan glowing as his body jerks to life.

 Soon thereafter, the low, maniacal laughter of a madman splashes against and shakes the drywall ...  the entire room shudders with the power of his wrath. 

Brighter and brighter grows the eerie light now emanating from the whole of his body; slowly, the tendrils of wood quake and smolder, the seals sizzle, their edges curling.

"I’ll get you for this you bastards!” He whispers against the weighty blackness of his confinement.

“This aint over until I say it’s over.”

 

Notes:

Abeyance:  temporary inactivity, cessation, or suspension.

Algolagnia: sexual pleasure derived from enduring or inflicting pain, as in masochism or sadism.

 


	18. Victory?

The battle was over - the victory won.

From an altercation with Hound they’d limped away physically unscathed.

That was a _miracle._

An unrivaled triumph … but a cause for celebration?  Hell no!

Why?

Because no one **ever** walked away from an encounter with Hound psychologically intact. 

That’s just the way things worked.

Kakashi got his kicks from confounding his comrades - mucking about with their minds was one of his many hobbies; just a bit of harmless fun that staved off his boredom.

Everybody knew that.

Ah, but Hound … he picked apart brains like a gluttonous buzzard.  Didn’t matter to him whether those brains belonged to a comrade or an enemy. Exploiting weaknesses, stirring up primal fears via the Sharingan – that’s how he asserted his dominance.  It was a pathological need to control _anyone_ he deemed beneath him.

Everybody knew that too.

But now was the Hound outfoxed by the one who summoned him and betrayed by the one who idolized him.

And by the gods above, they would pay.

No telling what form his torture would take or how many days, weeks or months would pass before Hound was satisfied, yet the vehicle of Hound’s vengeance was sure; by Kakashi’s hand would come retribution for his impudence.

It was an _ingenious_ plan – the killing of two birds with one stone.

And as the embodiment of his rage, Kakashi would suffer most.  Firstly, as an _assailant_ – a verbal or physical battering ram against all who crossed his path. And with each breath Kakashi drew in solitude, Hound would excruciate him internally, turning him into the one _assaulted._ For his recreance would Hound buffet him day and night.

There would come a time appropriate to ponder such ugly truths –

but it was not now.

Right here, inside their sanctuary, the only sounds apart from their breathing, was the inordinately loud ticking of an alarm clock over Kakashi’s bed.  

They were _safe._

Just for a moment, it felt like the good old days; huddled together with his captain, here in this small dark space - their target neutralized and Kakashi wild-eyed and breathless after expending too much chakra. This time around, the fates even allowed them six minutes of quietude …

before all hell broke loose.

Suddenly, the solid wood at their backs transmogrified into a vacuum, sucking at their flesh, holding them tightly in their places as the last barrier in the hallway separating them from Hound erupted in a hail of tiny wooden spikes.  Pulses of lightning rebounded off varnished panels in the hall, sending their brilliance screaming through the door jambs - clawing at the darkness inside the room.

There was _no time to think …_

As the earthy aroma of scorched wood sped over the moldings and the caustic odor of turpentine raced along the baseboards; meeting together, they sinuate beneath the door as wisps of bluish smoke twining about their ankles.

They were _under attack._

Hound’s vehement threats and repulsive obscenities pelt the timber at their backs like hailstones on a corrugated tin roof. Plastered to the door, Kakashi and Yamato rode out the fearsome display of Hound's power and then … 

The lights, the smell, the smoke –

all of them disappeared without a trace.

They looked to each other, puzzled ... grateful for having survived; fearful of what was to follow.

There was _no time to prepare …_

For no sooner than the door behind them assumed it’s natural form, from the living room there came a house shaking howl of torment and desperation, like that of a wounded animal. 

It was answered in kind by the man at his side.

Yamato watched helplessly as his captain's face contorted into a crimson mask of pain and his body violently shook.

And then, an eerie silence blanketed the entire apartment – suspending time as he gathered the limp and fevered body of his captain unto himself.  Kakashi looked close to death; his body, so pale and unresponsive – yet as he held him close, the faintest of heartbeats, the shallowest of respirations Yamato detected.

 _Alright, calm down,_ he thought.   _You’ve seen Hound’s assimilation before.  While it's shockingly beautiful in its brutality, I know Kakashi will muster his strength and overcome it … have to believe he can do it._

But the logical part of mind insisted,

“ _No … he can’t.  His chakra is too low.  It’s all over now … Hound wins!”_

The seconds tick down, stretching into minutes as his captain's body grew cold.

 _No time to waste_.

Yamato slammed his palm against the pallid chest, aiming his life force into his captain’s slowly beating heart.  Frightening seconds pass – his captain’s condition unchanging - in the blink of an eye, Kakashi’s chakra momentarily spikes. But once more, his body melted against him, dashing all hope of reigning in the infuriated Hound.

 _“This isn’t working,”_ his mind screamed _.  “He’s fading!”_

His breaths were coming in painful snatches -the eagle eyed clarity, beclouded by the gauze of catatonia as his body went rigid for the last time.

Everything Yamato knew to be true,

everything he’d done for the right reasons,

 all at once,

everything felt horribly wrong.  

His head bowed, his eyes closed and as a last resort, his lips silently mouth a prayer. 

“Damn it, Tenzou! Didn’t you hear me?”

Relief caught in his throat. “Senpai!”  Warmth returned to Kakashi’s body.  “Sir … thank god you’re --”

“I said, reinforce this door,” snapped Kakashi as he pushed away the hand pressed to his chest.  “Set another barrier in the middle of the hall!”

“What?  I don’t need to … there's no way he could --”

“This is Hound we’re talking about!  Just do it!”

Driven by adrenaline, Yamato speedily wove through the signs for his jutsu.  _Have to believe he’s got a plan …have to trust him._

All the while his mind countered, _“This is a waste of our time and energy. Why can’t you trust in our abilities?  Have you forgotten the way we left Hound?”_

Of course not.  How could he forget?

Unsolicited memories blank out his surroundings, though everything concerning Hound he clearly saw.

That smug look of disbelief when flimsy wooden tendrils sprung up through swollen joists - the cocky smirk on his lips when savin coils twisted into helices in mid-flight about him and of course, his tenebrous grimace when said coils wound around his limbs … anchoring him to the floor. The last and most satisfying image of them all was the look of abject horror in his eye when those mysterious seals vaulted from the hidden scroll.

What _beauteous_ sights they were.

Hound … defiant, defenseless and completely at his mercy. His face, reddened with rage as his body bucked and writhed against the restraints he crafted _._ Delicate as fine lace they were yet, stronger than tempered steel.

Yamato shook his head.  _No time to gloat._

 _Neither was it time for this_ , he thought, as his mind fired off images of painted on ANBU blacks against alabaster skin - the glaze of sweat glistening on exposed parts of Hound’s body as he struggled against the ever tightening binds.

With Kakashi’s warm body stirring to life by his side and the images of a captive Hound stirring up life elsewhere, his willpower was almost at its breaking point.

Over and over he reminded himself _:_

_Hound is the enemy … Kakashi is my comrade … my friend, the one who needs me._

Chewing at the inside of his cheek, the taste of his own blood mixing with the saliva in his mouth – even that wasn’t enough to turn off the phantasm inside his head.

Screwing shut his eyes worsened his predicament, for now he could see himself standing directly over Hound - he could see his chest rise and fall with each rapid breath - could almost reach out and daub away the tiny beads of perspiration dotting the aquiline nose. Would that he could erase the memory of that single bead of moisture plummeting over a flared nostril and splattering into the philtrum above Hound’s curled lip.

Damn it all to hell!

Only Hound could make the process of diaphoresis fascinating.

What a relief it was when Kakashi jerked their backs away from the door. 

Pitched forward, his eyes snapped open; a slight turn of his head hid the fey grin from the eyes of his captain as his free hand slipped down, shielding a resurgent erection.

_Not now damn it!  Kakashi needs me …  have to protect him._

The urges of his body suddenly fall silent once he summoned the courage to look upon his captain’s face.

The man he’d always respect, a mere shell of his former self.

 “Senpai,” he whispered.  “I promise … everything's gonna be alright.”

Kakashi crumpled at his side, dazed and gasping for breath.

 _What the hell am I saying?_ _He's mangled a part of himself I can't reach, much less heal._

_Wait a minute!_

_There’s only one person I know who can help him._

 

*****     *****     *****

The sound of Yamato’s voice above him, like mist on the water, roused him from stupor; the clamor of Hound’s voice, beating at his back like tekken, filled him with remorse.  

_What the hell was I thinking?_

_Hound is unhinged … have to protect Tenzou._

His head spinning, his spatial orientation askew, he opened his eye cautiously; the ragged breaths of the man to his right made him raise his head faster than he should have.  A collision between the top of his head and the bottom of Yamato’s chin bought him a moment of clarity, but it wasn’t enough.

“Tenzou,” he uttered huskily, “when did we? How did we? Where are we?”

*****                 *****                 *****

Seeing him this physically weak was distressing _;_ more worrisome was Kakashi’s mental state - the effort behind asking simple questions, too much of a strain. Obviously he didn’t remember the journey of less than forty feet that left both of them unduly winded and who knew how much he recalled prior to that. 

 _“Briefly present the facts,”_ urged the rational side of himself. _“And throw in a bit of levity … it’ll irritate him into thinking clearly.”_

“Senpai,” he began, “after we subdued Hound, you insisted we hole up here.”  He let his comment hang in the air, alert for any spark of recollection in that cloudy grey eye - there were none.  

“I ended up dragging your sorry ass halfway down the hall,” he joked. “By now you’d think I would be used to lugging you around after a battle, wouldn’t you?”

Kakashi managed a crooked smile as his knees buckled. Yamato simply looped his arm around his captain’s waist and continued, “If you think I’m gonna let you pass out before I read you the riot act … you better think again.”

“ _The longer you stand here, the worse his condition gets,”_ shouted the little voice inside his head.

That much was true, but he knew from experience meaningless prattle always forced Kakashi deeper inside his own thoughts, thus he rattled on. 

“You know, there were a couple of times when we were coming down the hall that I really wanted to pop you one.  Somehow your nails found the only unhealed welts on my hip to dig into …  pretty sure you did that on purpose.  No worries, I’ll get you for that.”

*****                 *****                 *****

That worried little smile - the lame attempts to crack wise, to make him rise to the bait - Kakashi knew they were intended to cover the concern and anxiety his kohai felt; as usual … they didn’t.

Immediately, he stood upright - his voice strong, though his thoughts were still jumbled and his speech disjointed.  

 “Hound?  Tenzou … Hound is where?”

 _Oh God!  This is bad._ “Stop joking around, Kakashi.  I know you remember we left him tied up in the living room.” Gently, he pushed his captain against the cool wood of the door.  “Look, you’re scaring the shit outta me, okay?  For god’s sake, man … get it together …we have to --”

“We humiliated him, Tenzou,” he whispered.  “Hound … he’s out for our blood.”

Blowing out an exasperated breath, Yamato calmly replied, “You’re buggin’. There’s no way in hell he could’ve escaped my jutsu and even if he did, you used those seals --”  

“Shit! I had to use those?” His thoughts were running a mile a minute –

_I never told him about that sealing scroll … he’s telling the truth._

_But, that’s impossible!_

The pads of his fingers pressed into the flesh of his kohai’s forearm. “The bursts of lightning … the smoke under the door … I saw it with my own eyes and I’m telling you,

Hound’s broken free ... he’s coming for us--”

“No, Kakashi …  Hound isn’t going anywhere … but we have to.” 

“You think I’m crazy … don’t you? That’s why you’re tryin’ to back away … isn’t it, Tenzou?”

“No, sir,” he said, slipping his arm from around his captain’s waist. “I think you’ve stretched yourself too thin and you need rest.  Listen to me, I’m just going over there … to the closet to borrow one of your uniforms, okay?”   

Kakashi released his arm and weakly nodded - at least Yamato thought he did; hard to tell since his entire body was trembling.

“Once I’m dressed, we need to get out of here and --”

“Can’t let Hound chase me from my home.  You and me … we’re gonna stay here and fight.”

“Okay, Kakashi … now you’re talkin’ crazy!  You’re in no condition to fight him or anybody else and since I can’t handle Hound on my own, we’re gonna get the hell outta here.  I’m gonna take you to someone who can help --”

“Hell no!  No outside help. Have to handle this my way.  Over there Tenzou,” he said gesturing toward the dresser. “There’s a cylinder in that tray … I need it.”

Just beyond his captain's reach, Yamato turned his body away, his eyes drifting over to locate the item mentioned.  “Chakra pills … seriously? Won’t those make Hound stronger too?”

Kakashi fixed him with a dead eyed look.  “Weren’t you paying attention earlier or did you think I was bullshitting you?   Hound has severed the link between us … he’s operating autonomously. I have absolutely no control over him and I don’t even know where he is right now!”

For Yamato right now, even breathing required a concerted effort.

_And here I thought things couldn’t get any crazier._

Mouth agape, he watched Kakashi push himself from the door, aiming his body to the center of the room.   _At least he’s got enough sense to lay down before he falls down_. _With any luck, he’ll pass out and I can get him to the hospital without a fight._

Walking backwards toward the closet, he tamped down the urge to rush to Kakashi’s side as he navigated a twisting path toward the bed. He bit his tongue when Kakashi stopped in mid step, seemingly forgetting where he was headed.  He even held back a laugh as Kakashi patted the air in search of the elusive king sized bed.  But when his captain tripped and fell - rather collapsed, face first into the mattress, Yamato had seen enough. 

Squaring his shoulders, he barked, “That’s it! I don’t give a damn about your pride … you need help - I'm gonna make sure you get it!”

The stubble on his chin scraped against the comforter when Kakashi slowly turned his head. 

“There’s only two things I need at present, Tenzou.  A few minutes quiet to collect myself, so to speak … and that,” he gestured with his chin.  “Top of the dresser … the tray to your right.  Like to be cognizant … we need to talk.”

“I’ll do all the talking from here on out, thank you.  Anything you have to say can wait until --”

“Afraid it can’t … don’t make me pull rank on you.”

“Oh please, senpai … you can barely pull the covers over yourself.” 

Rolling part way onto his side Kakashi growled, “Over there. Top of the dresser …  cylinder in the tray … I need it.”

“Humph … and you have the nerve to say I get fixated on things,” he said when he turned to rifle through the closet.  “You’ll get the pills … after I prove something.”

“What?  That my shirts are too tight for you? I can see that from here, Tenzou --”

“Never mind that,” he said, struggling with the buttons at his chest. “Ah, skip it … I’d rather be slightly outta uniform, then parading through town naked.”

“Town?  Why are you going into town this time of night?”

“Because, Kakashi … one way or another, I’m getting you to the hospital!"

He lay quietly as his kohai dressed, dreamily watching the red stripes on his thighs disappear under blue fabric as the pants rose higher and higher.  Startled when the closet door slammed shut, his eyes followed along as Yamato stomped toward the bedroom door.

 “Oi, Tenzou!  You just walked past the dresser.  Where do you think you’re going?” 

“The living room,” he said.  “You stay here and calm the hell down … I’ll be back.”

The room swam in and out of focus as Kakashi struggled to sit up.

“Get back here!  He’ll kill you!"

The last things Kakashi saw were a determined look on his kohai’s face and a rude one-fingered gesture.

He was losing consciousness and the only images he saw now were of Tenzou – bloodied, battered, slumped in the corner of the living room, trapped inside a genjutsu only Hound could release him from.

Everything went black as he collapsed against the mattress.

 

*****     *****     *****

 

The sound of something rattling beside his ear jolted him awake.  There stood Tenzou, fully dressed and not at all bloody; pinched between his fingers, was the tiny metal cylinder from the dresser. 

 

"Here,” he sullenly said. 

“Take as many of these as you need.

 

Hound’s gone.”

  

 

 


	19. Quizás, Quizás, Quizás

Quizás: (Spanish) – can be translated as, perhaps, maybe or possibly. This short chapter was inspired by my cousin who shared a recording of the incomparable Celia Cruz singing of an indecisive lover, constantly putting off her requests for a commitment which matched her own.  Original lyrics written by Osvaldo Farrés, Cuba, 1947.

Heartfelt thanks to those gentle readers who continue following along with this twisted saga – your support means so much.  As they had in the previous chapter and as they will in this one, Kakashi and Yamato are sorting out a few issues, (Kakashi’s mini-meltdown being the most pressing), but I hear tell there will be smut in the coming chapters. 

Meanwhile … Hound is plotting.

* * *

 

 He’d blacked out for a while and when he awoke, an unknown attacker stood over him – the pale moonlight revealed a dull metal colored object in the enemy’s hand.

_Was it poison? A truth serum?_

_In a few minutes … would it matter?_

Instinct or maybe just battle reflexes yanked his body from its position of vulnerability; pain … its icy fire sawed through every muscle in his body when he bolted upright.  Silently, forcibly was the taunting cylinder slapped away from the shadowy figure before him, its contents still intact even as it flew across the room, rattling to a halt on impact with the wall.

Suddenly, wide brown eyes loomed into focus – they stared back at him – shouting wordless accusations … reminding him of every single wrong he’d committed this night; promising unimaginably appalling payback.

_Chakra’s low … body weak … I’m hallucinating –_

that’s what he kept telling himself, but the tense set of muscles beneath his fingers - the fast pulse beneath the heel of his hand said otherwise. Hound, defeated - hied away to a location unknown, or so said this bold adversary who hid his true self behind a familiar face.

_It’s a lie … it has to be a lie -_

Kakashi repeatedly told himself as he searched every nook and cranny of his being … hoping, praying he was living one of his worst nightmares.

Unfortunately, no hallucination, nor nightmare was this, for not one iota of Hound’s malevolent chakra was found within himself.

_It’s all true then._

_Fuck!_

His chakra, ebbing away even as anger against himself swelled; guilt roiled in his stomach, coating his insides with acrid yellow bile. The Sharingan, was sucking up chakra he couldn’t spare at present, but there it was … the truth, plain as day; he could see bluish purple streams of inimicality flowing from Tenzou like a mighty rushing river – could feel the white hot pricks of hostility radiating from his kohai, gouging into his flesh.

_I can taste his hatred from here._

Perhaps the realization of the truth made him release the other man … or perhaps Tenzou simply seized upon his momentary weakness and wrenched free his arm; it didn’t matter.  For with every backward step the other man took, Kakashi was certain his skull or his heart would explode.

_I’ve fucked up –  can’t fix this._

Perhaps this would be the final time they locked eyes; he’d remember it always, that look on his face when Tenzou bent down and retrieved the cylinder.

_Perhaps._

***                    ***                    ***

Yamato was well acquainted with that look - the desperate, soulless stare which screamed –

**Danger! Stay away!**

Once … long ago, he ignored these warning signs and for his naiveté was he disturbingly rewarded.  A particularly intense battle left his captain on the brink of chakra exhaustion; severely wounded and stooped over in pain, Kakashi rose to his full height and attacked him in a blind rage, forcing him back against the rocky wall of the cave they hid inside; the tip of his captain’s katana, pierced through his breastplate, mere inches beneath the right lower chamber of his heart.  Only the smell of his blood on the blade brought Kakashi to his senses. 

_Hopefully things wouldn’t go that far tonight._

He’d leave nothing to chance this time. Gingerly prizing his wrist from that death grip - moving backward slowly, he kept his hands where Kakashi could see them. He maintained non-threatening eye contact with his captain, even as he bent down and picked up the cylinder.

This was always the hardest part ...

waiting for Kakashi's cognitive processes to catch up with his reflexes.

He'd tempted fate one time too many tonight, but now, instinct dictated his movements, compelling him against his better judgment to lodge all of his confidence into the mentally unbalanced man seated on the side of the bed.

***                    ***                    ***

Timid footsteps approach from his left as Kakashi made his peace with fate.

_Soon, he’ll deliver the killing blow, releasing me from this hell I’ve created._

_Without me … there is no Hound._

_To perish at the hand of the one I nurtured and trained … it’s for the best …_

_Perhaps._

Instead, his kohai knelt before him; his warm hands reaching out, peeling open Kakashi’s clenched left fist - pressing the cool metal cylinder into his palm.

“Senpai ... I trust you,” he heard him whisper.

Yamato held his breath, not knowing how or if his captain would respond. _Would he chew me out for the risk I took?  Would he congratulate me for the decisions I made, or would he say something outlandish to break the tension between us?_

***                    ***                    ***

It was instinct or perhaps … reflex; maybe it was a combination of the two – but when his right arm suddenly stretched forth, his shaky hand aiming for the unprotected throat, somehow it landed on the crest of his kohai’s shoulder.

“Thank you … Tenzou,” he heard himself say.

***                    ***                    ***

Yamato pretended he didn’t notice the clumsy one handed attempts at prying open the slick little cylinder. He knew better than offering assistance as that would be taken for pity.  Neither did he question or utter words of caution when his captain swallowed down enough pills to strangle a lesser man. 

It wasn’t long before the veil of confusion lifted from Kakashi’s eye, before the murderous intent diminished – he held back a proud smile when he saw a flush of color in Kakashi's cheeks and his  features softened.

_Just a few minutes more and he'll back to normal._

_***                    ***                    ***_

His vision and mind cleared almost instantaneously; his body, still weak.  This time, trusting brown eyes met his and a husky and very uncomfortable chuckle danced in the air between them. 

 _Ah, Tenzou,_ he thought, kneading his kohai’s shoulder _._

_Such a seraphic little twit! Why is it you refuse to change?_

_We’ve got an enemy, devoid of scruples and bent on revenge, miching somewhere inside my apartment and here you kneel…_

_that insecure smile on your lips and your head slightly bowed._

_My Tenzou; ever loyal … eternally circumspect – you were hard wired that way long before we met._

_Thrown together, I drilled the importance of teamwork into your head,_

_I unwittingly modeled the concept of altruism before your eyes, making you believe_

_you must embrace my personal principle as your own, that I might accept you._

_But tonight … I played fast and loose with your safety_

_and for what?_

_To get my rocks off?_

_How narcissistic and base am I?_

_And what of you, Tenzou?_

_How dare you forgive me_

_when I can’t possibly forgive myself?_

_***                    ***                    ***_

Notes:

Inimical: adverse in tendency or effect; unfavorable, harmful.

Miche: to lurk out of sight.

Seraph:  a member of the highest order of angels, often represented as a child’s head with wings above, below and on each side.

 


	20. Beyond the Door, Truth Doth Crouch (Part One)

_Twelve years spent apart … in which you grew._

_Three and a half days spent together – in which, I regressed …_

_you allowed it and I promptly made a mess of your life… again._

As if it burned, he drew back the hand resting on Yamato’s shoulder.

_Hound was right … the more things change,_

_the more they stay the same._

_You were my one-time foe,_

_my years long teammate …_

_my friend._

_And now, you can’t even bring yourself to look at me._

_Now, I know what I have to do…_

_I know I must set you free …_

_free to live your life …_

_free of me._

_*****     *****     *****_

The borrowed shirt constrained his diaphragm with every breath ... his knees ached, an annoying crick immobilized his neck at an odd angle; even so, Yamato would neither complain nor willingly abandon his self-assigned post.  His body, ready to spring into action the moment his captain gave the word; his mind, unsettled … fretful.

_This is taking too long,_ he kept thinking.   _The number of pills ingested, the amount of time elapsed … why hasn’t his condition improved?_

A roll of the shoulders eased the spasms in his back and to his previous position he returned; head bowed, hands folded in his lap.

_Should I stay put a while longer?_

_Should I scoop him up and make a beeline for the hospital?_

_“The first one,”_ grumbled the analytical side of his brain. " _And while we’re waiting for him to snap out of it, what say we face facts?_

_Our captain is a dunderhead._

_If you really wanna know why he’s been mentally checked out since we walked in here … take a good look at him.”_

Yamato chanced a glance upward - immediately angered by what he saw.

“ _Didn’t_ _Hound say use of those seals would shave years off his life?"_

It was true. Kakashi looked like one of those geezers sitting alone in the park, lost inside his own little world, talking gibberish to himself.

On the upside, there was a simple way of handling this situation, but it was gonna hurt like hell.

"Senpai … it's me … Tenzou,” he said, cautiously stretching out his arm. "We have to shut this thing down."

The sound of bones snapping … the sensation of tendons ripping from their points of origin - that’s what he expected when he raised his hand toward Kakashi’s face.

But as soon as the wildly spinning Sharingan was covered, a mournful sigh and a shaky breath of thanks were the only things he got.  A chilly hand overlaid his, guiding it gently away from the haggard face and pressing it palm down on a trembling knee.

_Whew!_

Without warning, however, that same gentle hand shot up, stopping itself shy of his throat once more.

Yamato braced himself … waiting for the inevitable.

And as he did, it was like watching a weird tug of war.   Pale appendages, hovering millimeters from his face as they rose to the level of his lips, touching and yet not touching them - threatening asphyxiation as they froze over his nose, yet daring a caress.  At last, they hatchel through the wispy hairs covering his forehead.  Hesitantly moving to the crown of his head, they linger, lovingly petting him as a master would a loyal canine.

No offense meant, nor taken …

it was just Kakashi’s way.

Soon thereafter, those graceless fingers card through the thicket of soft brown hair and Yamato found himself leaning into the caress.

_*****     *****     *****_

Beneath his fingertips, something warm … velvety … tangible, tethered him to this plane, pulling him back from a place far away. The return of reason left him in awe of the control he now had over his instincts. Up until this very moment, Kakashi cared nothing for the harm he was doing himself nor did he realize the anxiety his actions aroused, until he heard Tenzou say,

“Seriously, senpai, it’s like trying to put out a building fire with a turkey baster.  If you keep this thing open, it’ll delay your recovery and waste what's left of your chakra.”

A conscious effort expended, yet his fingers would not do what he wished. What he hoped would communicate his gratitude, instead became a gesture that kept his kohai in his rightful place … on his knees before him.

_Shit!  Will I never get this right?_

Looking into those warm eyes of brown, so full of hope and apprehension, he thought, _perhaps to you, this does look like delay and waste. And perhaps, in the end … that’s what it actually is._

_Never before have I been so out of touch with that part of myself,_ he thought as he patted at Tenzou’s head. _As frightening as it is to you, for me … it’s terrifying._

_Though Hound’s absence has given me a freedom I haven’t felt in years - it’s also blasted a hole clean through my identity._

_But how can I expect you to understand?_

As his fingers rake through silky hair, gently massaging a tense scalp, he kept thinking;

_Tenzou … my Tenzou._

_What would I do without you?_

_How I wish I could make you see why…_

_why I have to keep on trying …_

_why I have to be absolutely certain Hound is no longer a threat._

_I know no other way but this._

_Torrents of chakra, discharged from my body … they’ll act as a heliograph for Hound.  The weaker these torrents become, the stronger Hound's will to survive._   _Lured back to the place where he belongs, the chakra he’s stolen will funnel itself into my body; only then can I lock him away._

_*****     *****     *****_

“Senpai, we have to make a decision … quickly.”

Disentangling his fingers, Kakashi reared back, his hands at his sides, his eye skimming over the other man’s body.  “Right,” he said, “but first things first.”

Yamato leaned in closer, anxious to hear … eager to obey.

“Take off that uniform … you look ridiculous.”

Confused and slightly peeved, Yamato looked down at the expanse of skin not covered by the bunched up shirt.  

“Not my fault I’m broad-chested and you aren’t,” he huffed, fumbling with the button digging into his rib cage.  “Never mind this … what are we going to do about Hound?”

Kakashi focused his attention on the place where an angry red line bisected Tenzou’s chest. “I’m working on something even as we speak.  In the meantime,” he said with a wink, “what say you help me get my pants off and climb in bed with me?”

_And_ … _we’re off,_ he thought when Tenzou predictably recoiled in shock.  

_Cue the blush, exaggerated eye rolls and angry exhales of breath_

_in three … two … one –_

“Can you be serious for like … two seconds, Kakashi?”

“Of course … but I'd rather we were both naked.”

That scarlet blush shot higher up Tenzou’s cheeks.

 Y _eah, red was definitely a good color on him._

At last, Yamato ceded victory to the infernal fastener.  “Fine, since Hound swiped your sense of propriety before he left, and since I’m in no mood for your foolishness,” he said scampering to his feet, “I’m outta here!”  

Watching his kohai beat a stiff-legged retreat to the door, Kakashi maintained a poker face; he even acted surprised when Yamato turned himself about as he knew he would.

“If you wanna treat your health like a joke, senpai … that’s on you.  Just don’t expect me to stick around and --”

“You know I never joke, especially about important things, Tenzou. And while I find the idea of having your hot naked body pressed against mine appealing … truth is, what I really need is your body heat.”

“So help me, Kakashi --”

“If only you’d storm back over here and touch me ... you’d realize I’m freezing cold.  Surely you haven’t forgotten how chakra restoratives work… have you?”

_Pfft! It’s basic shinobi knowledge,_ he thought when he let go the door handle _._ “Who doesn’t know that they move through the circulatory system faster when a body is --”

_Oh crap!_

“Beg your pardon?”  Kakashi said cupping his ear. “What was that last part?”

“You’re an ass,” he said without malice.  “And no, I haven’t forgotten that chakra restoratives move through the circulatory system faster when a body is nearer its euthermic range.” He took a few steps away from the door. “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place, senpai?”

“When have I ever passed up a chance to give you a hard time?”

“Never,” he sighed.  “So happy the elevation of my blood pressure gives you the giggles.” Undoing the last three buttons on the shirt and peeling it from his body, he let it slip to the floor.  And after a few seconds wriggling, the pants joined the shirt. Once again, he found himself naked, kneeling before this smirking man; his hands sallying up cloth covered legs and scudding over the bulge at his captain’s crotch.

And if things couldn’t get more awkward …

Kakashi was leaning back on his elbows with a cheesy grin on his lips and a lustful twinkle in his eye.  _Oh good lord … this is like a scene from a grainy porno flick_ , he thought when his hand crept inside the waistband of the pants. _If_ _he isn’t wearing underwear, I can pass my actions off as protecting his short and curlies from the zipper’s teeth.  Then again, if he is wearing underwear … he’ll never let this pass without commentary.  Hell, knowing Kakashi's sense of humor, this gesture might be the talk of the jounin apartment complex for months; I can hear it now -_

_‘Keep an eye on that Yamato character ... I heard he_

_copped a feel on his incapacitated squad leader_

_– who knew he was such a pervert?_ _’_

He held his breath and grit his teeth when his palm settled unobstructed, into a snuggery of grey hairs.

_Thank god … at least I didn’t accidentally grab his cock._

He forced himself not to dwell on that nor on the provocative way his senpai shimmied as the dark blue fabric rolled over sharply defined hipbones.  He damn near wrenched his neck, looking away from the semi-hard cock, cradled at the juncture of his pelvis and an ivory thigh.  As he yanked the material over bony knees, Kakashi suddenly twisted his body, rolling onto his stomach … purposely flexing every muscle in his back, legs and those smooth, perfectly rounded butt cheeks.  He made a show of pulling at the comforter and linens, while he inched his way toward the head of the bed.  And then, lickety-split, he was between the sheets, snagging one of the pillows and folding it up under his neck.

 "Oi, Tenzou …if you hop in right now, I'll let you be the 'big' spoon.”

He tried not to lose his temper … he really did.

Digging his nails into his kneecaps, kept reflexive wild gestures to a minimum; focusing on the alarm clock above Kakashi’s head, prevented direct eye contact.  Nevertheless, the irritation rising within found vent in the tone of his voice.

“With all due respect, _sir,_ I'm not hopping anywhere until I know what we’re gonna do about Hound."

“Oh, that … it’s simple,” Kakashi explained.  “We do nothing, except wait … and pray those chakra pills haven’t passed their expiration and they kick in before Hound kicks down the door."  

_So much for being polite._

With arms akimbo and eyes narrowed like slits, he echoed -

“We wait ... and pray?  That’s it?”

“Yep.  Now do get a move on ... I’ll never warm up with you sitting all the way over there."

_How the hell can he be so calm?_

_Wait!  Has he been lying about Hound since we came into the bedroom? Damn it!_

He was on his feet, yelling and cursing before he could censure himself.

“Unbelievable!  This is … you are … unfreakin’ believable!  The fuck, Kakashi!” Leveling a threatening glare, he pointed a shaking finger at the lounging man. “We’re in the middle of a bad situation here … or so you say.   Quit dickin’ around!”

He was pacing alongside the bed now.  “A few minutes ago, you were all wild eyed and breathless,

‘ _Hound is coming after us’_ , you said.

Now listen at ya…  going on with all this bullshit as if --”

“Tenzou!  What the hell is your problem?”  Kakashi propped himself up on his elbow.   “It’s not like we’ve never done this before --”

“Yeah … well, we weren't buck naked-- ”

“Seriously? How many times have we bathed together … stitched up wounds on each other … hell, less than an hour ago I gave you a hand job and now you're shy?”

“Please,” he spluttered.  “Ten minutes ago, you had no idea how and when we got here … but a hand job almost an hour ago … that you remember?”

Kakashi shrugged.  “I’ve got my priorities.  Now, if you've finished your tirade," he said beckoning him closer while he flopped down on the folded pillow, “get over here and keep your hoary senpai warm.”

_Story of my life … saving this jackass from himself!_ "I oughta let you freeze," he grumbled while he trudged the long way round to the opposite side of the bed.

Kakashi threw back the covers in welcome.  “Ah, now there’s a good man --”

“No … here stands a crazy man.  Holy hell!  The things I do for you - need to have my freakin’ head examined!"

“Tenzou, don’t be so hard on yourself.  One of your best qualities is that soft heart --”

"Yeah and I'm kind to dumb animals too," he said sliding beneath the covers and pulling them up to his chin.  "Maybe that's why I've put up with you for so long."

Finally, he settled in; lying flat on his back, about eight inches from his captain.

After letting him sulk for a few beats, Kakashi whispered, “You do see how this defeats the purpose of getting in bed with me, right?  It's not that terrible is it?”

That garnered a harrumph.

“Come on … I won’t bite… unless you ask me to of course --"

“Just roll onto your side and for the love of god, Kakashi … stop talking!”

Yamato ignored the smug chuckling beside him and scooched over gingerly, mindful of his senpai's typically violent reaction to sudden intimacy.  Dragging the extra pillow under his head, he let his arm over hang Kakashi’s midriff, the tips of his fingers braced against the mattress.  “When this is all over,” he said, “remind me to give you a swift kick in the ass. And for the last time … what the hell are we gonna do about Hound?”

Kakashi snuggled against him, his shoulder blade grazing a sensitive nipple.   “Kinda thought we'd lie here for a while.  Use the time to clear the air between us, explain a few things and you know ... apologize --”

“What?  Already said sorry for putting us in danger, didn’t I?”

"Shush… it's my turn to make amends."  Pulling Tenzou's arm closer around his waist, he heaved out a long breath.

_Well, here goes nothing._

"Lookit … there are only two things in this world that scare Hound shitless.  Lady Tsunade for one; the other is me getting in touch with my … emotions.”

“Well isn’t that perfect? Why don’t I go fetch the Hokage while you lie here ... touching your emotions?”

Kakashi turned in the circle of his kohai’s arm.  “I summoned Hound, because I wanted to teach you a lesson … thought his presence would force a quick confession outta you.”  Carefully, he reached up supporting Yamato’s jaw with his hand, stroking his thumb over sneering lips.  “But I never thought things would go as far as they did.  Tenzou, I’m … I’m sorry.  If I knew this would make you hate me … I never would have done it.”

Though he could never tell when he was winding him up until it was too late, he’d known Kakashi long enough to know when he wasn’t.

“Senpai … now you’re being too hard on yourself.  I mean sometimes, sure, you’re a right idiot and other times … you can be a rat bastard; despite that …I could never hate you and I --”

“Please … let me get this out, Tenzou,” he said, closing his eye and swallowing down the lump in his throat. “Once Hound manifested, everything went straight to hell; things got out of hand ... had to let him think I was willing to keep going along with him.  Don’t have to tell you how much Hound despises weakness … especially in me... I used that to my advantage.   Tapping into my real feelings, kept Hound so busy suppressing my emotions, he couldn't concentrate on anything else--”

"Hang on.  When you said, your 'real' feelings what exactly did you--?"

“I’ll get back to that in a minute,” he said, pressing a finger to Yamato's lips.  Maneuvering his body away, he turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s been a while since I had to explain this out loud … not sure where to start.”

He felt the waves of his captain’s vulnerability lapping at his conscience – Kakashi wasn’t joking around.  That’s what scared him most; his captain, coming undone.  He took a deep breath and rolled onto his back too, his hands folded on his stomach, mimicking the man to his right.  Closing his eyes, Yamato determined to remain silent for the most part, knowing he could do nothing more.

Kakashi cleared his throat and said, “Once Hound’s ferocity on the battlefield was established, he was held in high regard… but his ruthlessness wasn’t restricted just to our enemies.   After a while, many of our ANBU operatives feared working with him ... hardly anybody was crazy enough to stay with him for long.”

How well did Yamato understand; for years, he was mercilessly teased for remaining at Hound’s side and sometimes ostracized for defending Hound’s actions.

“Don't get me wrong," Kakashi continued, "Hound was and still is an excellent leader of men, but like me … he sucks at maintaining healthy interpersonal relations.  At least he or rather I, did until you came along."

"Can’t decide if I should be flattered or insulted, senpai."

"I’d go with a little of both," Kakashi said with a chuckle. “But there came a point in my life when I couldn’t switch Hound off after missions, especially the real bloody ones.  The Sandaime kept us in ANBU because the village needed a killing machine like Hound; just the mention of his name or the sight of him was enough to make our enemies compliant.”

“I know … Hound’s reputation was feared even in the Foundation.”

"Yeah, well … back then, the only way to deal with him after long missions was to keep me pumped full of tranquilizers and tied down to a bed in the psych ward.  It usually took at least five days to declare me fit for duty after those episodes … too much time wasted, given the political and military climate of those days.”

“I understand all that, but obviously I’m missing something else, senpai.  I mean … since Hound is just a shadow clone, all you had to do was break the jutsu and make him disperse, right?”

 

“Well … yes, and no...  

Hound isn’t _just_ a shadow clone.

  

What he is,” he sighed, "is a curse.”

 

Notes:

Hatchel: a comb for dressing flax or hemp.

Heliograph:  a device for signaling by means of a moveable mirror that reflects beams of light to a distance; the Sharingan is so named the **Mirror** Wheel Eye **.**

Euthermic: normal body temperature.

Snuggery: a cozy, comfortable place.

Hoary: gray or white with age; ancient or venerable.

 


	21. Beyond the Door, Truth Doth Crouch (Part Two)

A/N:  Chakra replenishment tablets or “soldier” pills are ninja tools which enhance mental clarity and provide a sustained energy boost in emergency situations. Mass produced, they’re given to ninja of all ranks without prescription or medical evaluation.  Soldier pills for senior jounin and ANBU members however, are by prescription only.  Specifically tailored to the physiology, metabolism and blood group of the individual ninja.  (Yamato is blood type A; Kakashi is blood type O.) Specially compounded, these tablets are prescribed and dispensed by medical personnel.

Though both grades of soldier pills derive from natural plants and herbs, caution is advised.  Exceeding the recommended dosage or mixing them with other performance altering medications can induce episodes of hyper acuity, hallucinations, tachycardia and tremors.  

 Flu like symptoms (fever, chills, body aches) can occur should they be ingested by someone other than the intended shinobi; these side effects are temporary.  Unfortunately, the stimulants present in these soldier pills can slip past the blood-brain barrier and produce adverse psychological effects.  Perceptual anomalies, changes in the patterns of thought and emotions, such as aggression, agitation, paranoia and passivity are commonly reported; duration of these effects are dependent upon external stimuli.

 You’ll remember that in a fog of arousal and regret Kakashi inadvertently slipped some of his chakra restoratives to Yamato.

Oh, my … he's gotta lotta ‘splainin’ to do…

_********_

He’d accepted this assignment in good faith, as the will of the Hokage; he found out later his selection wasn’t based on merit, but the request of his captain.  

 That was strike one.

Though the likelihood of real danger was minimal, he wound up with the quixotic Hound as his squad leader.  From the moment he strapped on the ceramic cat mask, he was humiliated, physically threatened and spied on.  One expected these things from Hound. 

Still, that was strike two.  

Now here he lay; tricked into his captain’s bed, naked and shivering under the covers.   An unanticipated, though not necessarily unpleasant turn of events.

 Nonetheless, that was strike three.

 But mind games were his captain’s specialty, after all.  It didn’t matter how many times Yamato tossed or turned, stretched upward or crouched down, there simply was no comfortable spot on his side of the bed.   _Not surprised,_ he thought glaring at his captain who rested peacefully, his hands folded on his stomach _. Naturally, he’d make me lie on the only part of this bed that’s stuffed with billiard balls.  What’s this, now? Shackles tightening around my ankles?  The hell are these sheets made of ... cockleburs and tangle weed?_

 For the tenth time in as many minutes he threw off the covers and as he did, there was a marked change in the pattern of Kakashi’s breathing.

  _That bastard’s laughing at me …_

_so, that's his plan, is it?_

_Yeah … that explains why my teeth chatter like a box of Chiclets when I’m under the covers and now that they’re gone, I’m sweating like a whore in church._

_Sensory irritation … textbook ANBU tactic.  He's hoping I'll be too distracted or frustrated to press him for answers._

_Bastard!_

*****     *****     *****

 

 _Between shooting shuriken from his eyes …  muttering to the linens … and high stepping like a chorus line dancer …  he’s unusually fidgety,_ Kakashi thought.

 _Reckon I kept him waiting too long; better say something quick before he bolts._  

 

*****     *****     *****

_Scratch … Scratch … Scratch_

_Now what?_ Yamato wondered, _that noise ... …where’s it coming from?_

Vibrating through the mattress at his back and amplified through the pillow beneath his neck, whatever this tactic his taichou was employing, it was giving him a pounding headache. When he turned his head slightly, there was the source … fingernails – Kakashi’s fingernails, absently stroking against the grain of chin stubble; it was the sound that meant his captain was in deep thought.   _He’s probably plotting something fiendish … like how to dispose of my body._

_Scritch … Scritch… Scritch_

_Okay, that’s the sound of knuckles scraping against his jaw,_ he thought.That sound meant Kakashi was satisfied with the plan of action he’d chosen.  Once again, he cut his eyes at the man by his side.

  _What kind of idiot do you take me for, Kakashi?_

_I can see your thoughts … and you know something?_

_I deserve better than this!_

But a graceful and swift backward movement was hindered by the pain reawakening along the backs of his thighs from the stripes laid down by the cane and the switch. The muscles in his arms, stiff as he slowly folded them across his chest.

  _That’s it!_

_I’m gonna tell you what I really think, senpai and when I’m done,_

_I’m gonna walk away from your crazy ass, once and for all_

_… provided I can free myself from these freakin’ sheets!_

*****     *****     *****

Beside him, Tenzou’s herky jerky movements had all but ceased.  He was breathing heavily though, almost bordering on hyperventilation; the level of his anger rising with each breath.

_That’s it!_

_I can’t keep this going any longer … poor kid’s gonna do a mischief to himself._

_Have to tell him everything and let the chips fall where they may._

_Maybe not everything …_

_and maybe not all at once._

_Nah, that’s crazy talk!  Whatever I tell him won’t travel beyond this room.  Okay, since I know that I know that … why am I so nervous?  I mean sure, only four people in the village have access to this information … big deal!_ Suddenly the idea of being rejected after spilling his guts rejection made his entire body itchy. Rattled nerves drew his fingers to an annoying patch of dry skin above his navel.

_Now I’m just being ridiculous._

_I've trusted this man with my life, time and again; never thought about it.  Yet when it comes to trusting him with my heart … I don’t think I can do it._

Absently scratching up flakes of skin, he fretted,

_What if he can’t handle the truth?_

_Is it worth the risk?_

A stolen glance at the pensive man to his left convinced him that it was.  With his courage and flaky skin gathered into neat little piles, he turned onto his side; wheezing out a desiccated laugh at his kohai, wrapped up like a mummy, twiddling his thumbs as he stared up at the ceiling --his body trembling.

_You always could pick up on my feelings_

_and give physical expression to them, Tenzou._

_What the hell am I about to do to you?_

*****    *****    *****

 _It’s time to face facts_ , Yamato thought as he twiddled his thumbs. _As long as I allow it, he’ll keep doing this to me.  Well, my days as his doormat end tonight!_  Unwrapping himself from the covers for the final time, Yamato flipped onto his side once more. Just as he opened his mouth, he thought,

  _Maybe it’s best I cool my temper. Kakashi is crazier than usual at present._

_Still, I hafta let him know I won’t put up with any more of his half-truths, evasions or veiled deceptions._

_*****    *****    *****_

_“_ Senpai, back up a sec.”

The tone of his voice sent Kakashi scooting a few inches to his right before he realized it; by then, Tenzou was on his side, propped up on his elbow, with a hard look in his eye.

“You said Hound wasn't _just_ a shadow clone, which means he _is_ a shadow clone …technically.”

“Well, technically, what Hound is --”

“Then in the same breath you said, he’s a curse.  Which one is it, Kakashi?”

“Maybe if you’d let me get my thoughts together and squeeze a word or two in edgewise, I can --”

“I’m not buyin’ it,” he said, inching closer.  “Either Hound’s a shadow clone or he’s a curse ... he can't be both.”

 _Tenzou … always did like it when you got feisty … but this amount of attitude is strange, especially for you._ Leaning close, he didn’t detect the slightest hint of alcohol on his kohai’s breath nor did his sweat smell different than usual.

_His pupils look like the heads of straight pins …  like he’s doped up; nah, he didn’t have a chance to take anything without my knowledge._

_So, what’s his prob --_

_Aww shit!  The soldier pills … I gave him mine!_

_Sonofabitch!_

_Hound’s MIA and Tenzou’s on the verge of a psychotic break ..._

_can my luck get any worse?_

He popped himself in the forehead and that put Tenzou on the defensive - his arm poised against a perceived attack.   “Whoa, I’m not going to strike you, just realized I misspoke, okay?  Listen … Hound isn’t a curse in the traditional sense of the word, he’s more like a ...  a genetic anomaly.”

Yamato drew closer, lifting the covers, his eyes running up and down his captain’s body.  

The scrutiny pushed Kakashi back a few centimeters.

“Genetic anomaly, huh, senpai? Let me guess …  you’re some kind of mutant, aren’t you?”

Slamming down the makeshift tent of cotton he growled, “Yes, that’s it… now you know my horrible secret … I’m a mutant.  Look, I think we both need to take a beat and calm the hell down,” he said, pulling the rumpled sheets up to the level of his waist.  “What say we lie here quietly so you can get a grip on --?”

“Grip yourself, Kakashi!  I don’t know a damn thing about curses, but I do know something about shadow clones; they have limits … time limits.”

Forfeiting another inch backward, Kakashi raised his hands in surrender.  “Your point?”

“I’m just sayin’ … Hound was here for almost three hours.  Never knew you had enough chakra to hold a clone for that long.”

“You know, Tenzou … I get the distinct feeling you're calling me a liar.”

Another inch forward and his kohai’s huffed breaths heated up part of his chest when he said, “Take it any way you like.   l I think you're milking a prank for all it’s worth.  Here’s the deal, I screwed up …  you called me on it; I took my punishment. But you,” he said poking Kakashi in the chest, “you’ve been lying to me since we left the Hokage’s office and you’re just too big of an asshole to own up to--”

“I dealt with that already,” he said, slapping away the accusing finger.

“No, you didn’t.  You just kept on lying, Kakashi,” he said moving even closer.

“I can explain everything if you’d --”

“Hush!  It’s my turn to talk now … and what I’m talking about are facts, senpai.  Like when I went back to the living room and Hound was gone.  Obviously, his time was up and like any other shadow clone, he dispersed … that’s a fact even you can’t deny.”

His normally mild-mannered kohai was breathing fire and crunching brimstone between his teeth.    _I kinda like it,_ Kakashi smiled to himself _._ Rubbing at the red spot in the middle of his chest, he sighed and said, “Okay ... let’s deal with the facts.  First off, Tenzou you’re absolutely right.  Even when I’m at a hundred percent, I don't have enough chakra to hold a clone for … what was it you said ... three hours?”

Yamato smugly nodded.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t a shadow clone appear in the same physical state as its caster, I mean … right down to wearing the same clothing as the original?  That is a fact, right?”

“You know it is --”

“And when Hound showed up ...  what was he wearing?”

Yamato twisted his lips into a sneer as he inched backward. “ANBU uniform ... white cloak.”

“And was I … the caster, dressed in an ANBU uniform with a white cloak?”

“Point taken, senpai,” he said retreating another inch.

“Now you’ll pardon me for this one because it may have been wishful thinking … but I’m pretty sure I watched you give Hound a blow job.  He even ejaculated as I recall and I watched you suck down every drop.   Can shadow clones do things like that?”

“Well, you created him Kakashi ...  guess he’d be capable of something

… perverted.”

“And here I thought a jolt of pain or a burst of intense pleasure made regular shadow clones disperse. Hold on ... didn't Hound stick around after that … long enough for you to tie down his physical body?”

Three more inches ceded.  “Now you’re just being an ass, senpai.”

“On the contrary,” Kakashi said regaining two more inches of space. “It’s not every day I share my bed with a shadow clone expert. Help me understand one more thing kind sir; is it true when a shadow clone dissipates, all its memories transfer back to the caster?”

“You know damn well it --”

“Hmmm … I’d heard wild stories about casters becoming completely incapacitated memories and unused chakra rush back into their bodies. Surely that isn’t true … is it?”

One more inch backward and not another word did Yamato speak.

“Tell me, oh wise one ... is there a difference between being temporarily stunned and completely incapacitated?”

“Okay, I get it ... that’s enough, Kakashi.”

“It’s a simple question.  Was I or was I not completely incapacitated at some point during the evening?  Wait a minute … I take that back; I remember your insistence about getting me to a hospital, so something must’ve been wrong with me.”

“You needed help, senpai or so I --”

“Well would you look at that,” he said lifting the covers and inspecting himself.   “No outward signs of bleeding …  not missing any limbs, so what made you think I needed medical attention?”

Yamato was closer to the mattress’ edge than he’d been earlier.

“Fine … I’m a horrible person because I gave a damn about your sorry ass.”

“My ass appreciates your concern … thank you.  But considering this new data,” he said, watching Tenzou struggle with the sheets, “what do you think now?”

“I think you've got an answer for everything, as usual.”

“And?”

“Maybe I didn't have all my facts straight ... happy now?”

Yamato abruptly rolled over, taking most the sheets with him.  Kakashi took the other portion of the linens when he did likewise. And as he lay staring at the wall, the slow, steady breaths coming from the other side of the bed were of little comfort.  _Least he’s not angry anymore.  The hell’s the matter with me? Did I have to dog him out like that_?

“Tenzou … I’m sorry,” he whispered.  “Didn’t mean for this to escalate into a pissing contest.”

“You unzipped your pants first, senpai,” came the brittle response as he rolled over to face him.  “I don’t know what the hell came over me either --”

“Ummm … about that … I kinda know,” Kakashi explained sheepishly when he slowly rolled over.  “The soldier pills I gave you weren’t the generic ones ... they were mine. Guess I wasn’t thinking straight at the time …  grabbed the first ones I saw and --”

“Whew!  That explains all the weirdness.  Hang on… did you say _pills_? Damn it man, I thought one was a food pill!”

“The sweet one?  Yeah, that might have been a ... time release chakra enhancer.”

“Oh my goodness,” he wheezed clutching at his chest. “Are you tryna kill me?”

“Of course not; it was an accident.  Just calm down … I’m sure you’ll be fine after a while.  Though right now, it looks like you could use some help,” he said gesturing to the tangled sheets.

“No, no … stay away from me … you’ve done enough.”

As his kohai wrestled within the iron grip of devilish linens, Kakashi eased back to the center of the bed. “Lookit, Tenzou,” he breathed, “there’s some things I should tell you. They’re kinda uncomfortable and a little embarrassing to relive; you know stuff like that makes me ... a little edgy.”

“Well, I can certainly understand how giving me overdose would make _you_ tense.  Speaking of uncomfortable, just move, please ... you’re cutting off the circulation to my legs.  Once I finish with this mess,” he kicked at the sheets, “we can deal with the attempt on my life.”

“Said it was an accident … geez,” Kakashi mumbled.

Freed at last, Yamato collapsed on his back. “There’s a couple things I wanna get off my chest too, though I’m not sure how to phrase ‘em.”  Turning onto his side, he jabbed his captain in the ribs.  “I know how you are about sharing personal stuff, senpai … you don’t have to if you don’t --”

“Yes I do, or else we can’t go forward --”

“Alright,” he said, rolling onto his back and folding the pillow under his neck.  “I’ll try not to interrupt your--”

“And I’ll try not to bite your head off when you interrupt me anyway ...  deal, _Yamato_?”

Stretching their arms across their bodies, they shook hands and burst out laughing.

“Kinda silly, isn’t it?” Yamato chuckled.  “I mean ... what’s a little chakra poisoning between friends?”

“You’re just not gonna let that go, are you?”

“No way in hell, senpai.”

Notes:

Perceptual anomalies: misinterpretation of real sensory information; sensory anomalies - the person may hear, touch or taste things that aren’t actually there.

Quote about a Buddha, attributed to the character, Deidara (intellectual property of Masashi Kishimoto and VIZ Media).

Quixotic: impulsive and often rashly unpredictable.

 _Niagara Falls … slowly I turned, step by step, inch by inch -_ this was a vaudeville act made popular by the likes of The Three Stooges, Lucille Ball and Abbott and Costello.  If you can remember seeing any of these performances from reruns, you’ll understand why I’m in the sitting in the corner laughing to myself.  Or, maybe you won’t.  



	22. The Deluge

A/N:  For the tiniest bit of angst in this one, I apologize in advance dear readers.

 

* * *

 

_Wiping the slate clean … means telling him everything and that means reopening old wounds._

 A furtive glance at the man sharing his bed - Tenzou seemed content; his hands cupped under his head, a goofy smile on his face ... not a care in the world. A cocky grin on his lips, aflush with triumph after his battle with the linens, he lay with half the sheet draped over his waist, his legs crossed atop the rest of the covers. 

 _What a blissful little idiot you are,_ he thought.  

_Too respectful for your own damn good ..._

_always going out of your way to make sure I’m not inconvenienced._

Threading a hand through his hair as he curled his body upwards.  _One blissful little idiot and one selfish, ungrateful asshole - we make quite the pair, don’t we?  You deserve better, Tenzou;_ with that thought he almost put his fist through the pillow … twice …  as he fashioned it into a backrest.

“Everything alright over there, senpai?”

“It will be in a minute.”  Closing his eyes, he sagged against the headboard and sucked in a deep breath. “Konoha no Shiroi Kiba … the White Fang of the Leaf … he was my father,” he softly said.   “When I was a kid, I remember people used to stop us in the marketplace or even inside the halls of the Hokage Tower; they’d look to him and then to me and they’d always say the same thing:

 _‘Oh, Sakumo-san_ , he said affecting a silly voice. _“He looks like you chewed him up and spit him out’._

Pretty sure it was meant as a compliment.  Father would always smile, thank them for their kind regard and tell them how proud he was of me.”

 “Sounds like he was an honorable and handsome man, senpai.”

 “Honorable … humph … he was that alright,” he said swallowing down the lump in his throat.  “And handsome … I guess.   Let’s just say I lost count of the women chasing behind him after my mother died.”

 “So, he never remarried?”

 “Nah, the Hatakes are like swans … we mate for life.  Hafta imagine he was interested or maybe he just didn’t have another chance to find a wife.   Little time for romance with a war looming on the horizon and a small child to raise.  It’s true that I inherited many things from my father -  this hair, smile and his physical build and one other thing I can’t change --”

 

“That ‘anomaly’ you were tryna tell me about earlier, right?”

 “Yeah … funny thing, that ... Father was the sort of man who documented everything for posterity’s sake … everything except this ‘condition’. Probably hoped it would skip a generation,” he said, smoothing the covers at his waist.

 “Still, you should be proud, senpai,” he said twisting onto his side.  “I mean, despite his condition, the White Fang was hailed as a genius --”

 “Never forget, Tenzou … genius and madness are kissing cousins.”

 “Been around you long enough to know that,” he whispered as he rolled onto his back.

  “Yes, well, our brains are wired in a way that makes us catalogue and keep at ready reference every negative emotion we’ve ever experienced; that forces us to keep ‘em on display like a main street convenience store.”

 It was hard not to laugh when that silly voice came from the other side of the bed again:

  _“Bitterness on aisle one, humiliation on aisle seven,_

_envy on aisle five … and look, Tenzou,_

_there’s a closeout on rage and shame today only!”_

“Come on, Kakashi,” he laughed.  “It’s not that bad--”

 “Yeah, it is …you have no idea.  However, if we master that aspect of ourselves through nonviolent means, it’s kinda like emptying the shelves and if we work at it consistently, there’s a chance we can live long and productive lives.”

 Yamato popped up like a jack-in-the box - “Oh my gosh, senpai … you realize what this means?  You’re actually normal,” he said with a snort.

 The second Yamato flopped on his back, Kakashi flicked his ear.  “That was for interrupting me.  Now, as I was about to say … if we don’t master that part of ourselves, it makes for a hellacious life … like turning a fire breathing dragon loose in a dynamite factory.”

 “And as I was saying, that doesn’t make you a monster, Kakashi.   Hell, … it doesn’t even make you special, so take that,” he said jabbing him in the ribs.  “Learning to deal with our emotions makes us human --”

 “The ringing endorsement of my humanity means the world to me,” he said returning the jab, “but I haven’t finished.”

 “Fine.   Go on then …  I’ll be quiet.”

 Cutting his eyes at his kohai, Kakashi knew the quiet wouldn’t last.   _But hey, we made it this far, he_ thought folding his hands in his lap.  _This might not be so bad after all._ “Sure it’s safe for me to continue … you aren’t gonna jab me again?”

 Yamato tucked his hands underneath his armpits and shook his head.

 “With the Hatakes, if we don’t deal with our emotions, they … for lack of a better word… they explode and split us in half.”  Ignoring Tenzou’s aggravated eye rolls, he continued, “Once divided, those same emotions lead us by the hand to our eventual and violent destruction ... like they did with my father; killed himself the night before his forty second birthday.”

 Suddenly Tenzou was upright again, his eyes registering the blunder, his lips pulled into a grim line.  “But … I heard the White Fang died in battle … I … I had no idea he--”

 “It’s fine … that was the official story circulated by the Hokage.  He was maligned and shamed, even in death … relegated to the far corner of the cemetery with the civilian dead … a small, non-descript memorial stone marked his grave.  I had to go up against the Council of Elders and get the Third Hokage involved, just to have the Leaf insignia added to his headstone.  But, it’s fine … I’m fine” he said more to himself then to the man at his side.  _Shit!  Why did I have to bring that up?  Never should have taken this path …_

_what if I don’t make it back in time?_

It was already too late.

 Instantly was he transported to that day the moment he squeezed shut his eyes; against his will, the sensations and images root him in place.  He sees him … the proud and very happy eight-year-old boy, kicking off his sandals in the genkan; the light of innocence illuminating the boy's face.  Stuffy breezes give rise to goose pimples as the boy took off running through the darkened house; the excitement in his voice as he called out for his father, knits row after row of knots in Kakashi’s stomach.  Running down the hallway, the smell of decomposing blood gets stronger as the boy nears the study; bile rises to the level of his throat when the child realizes the door to the study has been left slightly ajar.

  _Father always keeps the door closed when he’s writing_ , the child thought.   _He must have waited up for me, anxious to hear the news of my first solo mission!_

As the door creaked open, the little boy bolted into the room to see …  Father … clad in a pure white kimono … rigor mortis left him curled in the fetal position on the floor, beside the low writing table in the center of the room.  Next to the place he’d hung his regular jounin uniform with care, a neatly written death poem was tacked to the wall; too high for the boy to reach.  His body trembled as the child stood apace and read aloud his father’s last words … a rambling apology for having left his only son behind.

Suddenly, the soles of his feet feel cold and sticky as he sees the little boy slosh through a pool of blood which surrounded the corpse.  His muscles ached as the child pulls the ko-wakizashi from its lodging place deep within his father’s abdomen with all his strength.  

 A single tear slides down the right side of his face, splashing down against his chest as the boy stands over the remains; the helpless screams of grief and bitter tears coming from his eight year old self make his skin crawl.   Echoes of the curse words which flowed like a mighty river from the little boy’s lips, ring down in his ears.  Numbness, not sorrow spreads through the child's body; like a virus - anger and resentment erupt into a feral shriek inside his head, birthed out of frustration and anguish.

 Hard to tell now, whether his body was trembling of its own accord now or if Tenzou was trying to shake some sense into him as he tried to turn away from the memories.

 Yamato was on his knees, his nails digging into his captain’s shoulders.  “Kakashi … senpai … can you hear me?  Kakashi … you alright?”

 “No … no I’m not.”   Blinking back the tears, he whispered, “Just need a minute to --”

 “Damn it!  Told you … you didn’t hafta do this, senpai --”

 “Tenzou ... hush … please.  It’s important you understand everything --”

 “If this is how it affects you, it’s not worth the--!”

 “Don’t you understand by now,” he shouted.  “You’re worth it to me.”  

 In one unguarded moment ...  

truth revivifies both men as they move apart.

Settling down took longer than expected; by the time he’d gotten himself together, Yamato was staring down at him as he straightened the covers over his chest.  Before he could stop the action, his hand was clamped around his kohai’s wrist. “Tenzou … don’t you dare treat me any differently – I don’t need--”

 “Let me go, Kakashi.  You of all people oughta know, disorder bugs the hell outta me; don’t mistake my actions for pity, because they aren’t.”

 “Yeah … well,” he mumbled, “my error.”  Leaning into the pillows at his back, he said without asperity, “If you stop interrupting me and if I start over, some of my crazy might make more sense to you.”

 Yamato shook sadly his head and once again, he lay down next to his bullheaded captain. “If you insist on torturing yourself … take all the time you need, senpai.”  Folding the pillow beneath his head again, he sighed, _why do you always have to do everything the hard way, Kakashi?_

 A weighty sigh broke through the long silence when Kakashi started afresh.

“Been a shinobi since I was five years old; jounin at thirteen, entrenched ANBU operative at the age of fourteen.  After Father’s death and the loss my teammates, the Hokage thought ANBU was the best way to keep me close to him.  He was the one that gave me the code name, Hound ... you know, because of my summons.”

 “You mean your sensei who was the Fourth Hokage, yeah?”

 “Mentor … big brother … savior of the village … he was all those things to me.  And when he died … I lost my last emotional anchor.  So, what did I do … humpf …  withdrew further into myself, of course.  I kept digging out a dumping ground for all the pain … never once realizing I was feeding the persona lurking beneath the surface.  I became Hound, a character that hid a scared and angry young man behind a mask of clay; I made him strong because I was so damn weak and--”

  “You were just a kid, Kakashi … like the rest of us.  You simply found a way to cope with all the bullshit we --”

 “I thought it was normal too … at first.”  Suddenly chilled, he pulled the covers up to his neck. “Anyway, after I’d done three back to back assassination missions and wound up in the psych ward again … I woke up one morning, and saw Lord Jiraiya sitting at my bedside--”

 “Don’t tell me he gave you one of his perverted books --”

 “Course not … Icha Icha wasn’t even a series back then. See, he’d been one of Father’s closest friends; he’d stood by him after my mother died, helped him navigate those dark times and he’d watched him crack under the pressure when the village turned its back on him.  Because of those experiences, Jiraiya recognized the signs and knew exactly what was happening to me.  Although having the Sharingan made my situation worse,” he said with a fleer.   _Damn … just this little bit and I’m already exhausted,_ he thought as his pulse raced.  _Gotta keep it together … almost done._

 “Time out, senpai … Sharingan?  What did that have to do with anything?”

 “I’m sure you know of its ability to copy jutsu and such, but did you know about the curse of hatred that goes along with it?”

“Curse of hatred?  Yeah … I vaguely remember hearing about that in the Foundation … they blamed it for the Uchiha massacre, if memory serves.”

 Running sweaty palms against his thighs, Kakashi went on to say, “Those born into the Uchiha bloodline slowly descend into madness because of Sharingan’s power.  The negative effects of that dojutsu worked faster in me since I already had some unresolved issues with hatred.  But getting back to Jiraiya …  once I regained my strength and wits, he kicked the medics out of my room and brought in the elders of the Yamanaka and Hyuga clans.”

 “I know some of the Hyuga are medics … but the Yamanaka?”

 “Jiraiya knew the last thing I needed was more medication.  Using the Byakugan, the Hyuga traced my chakra network; he saw where it split off and turned darker inside my brain.  And in that tiny space where I ended and Hound began, he guided the Yamanaka inside my mind -  together they erected a kekkai between me and Hound. Naturally, Hound fought against the separation with all his might -- hurt like a sonofabitch, lemme tell ya.”

 “No surprise on either count … a sentient shadow clone … must’ve been one helluva fight, senpai.”

 “Remember … Hound’s not just a shadow clone--”

"Yeah, yeah … he’s a curse too, I remember.”

 “Anywho … the day I was released me from the hospital, Jiraiya and I went back to my family home.  Hadn’t walked through those gates since Father killed himself.  We spent days sifting through the books in my father’s study until Jiraiya stumbled on a way to seal Hound’s persona inside my ANBU armor.  Mind you, that was a temporary fix but…”

  _Of course,_ Yamato thought, _how many times did I secretly watch that transformation take place, never understanding the ‘how’ or ‘why,’ behind it - just thinking it was ‘cool?’  And how many times did I marvel over Hound’s ruthlessness in battle ... never understanding the daily struggle you hid behind that apathetic demeanor?_

“ …   miscalculated how deep my emotions ran and how tenacious Hound was,” he heard Kakashi say.  “Threats against the village increased even as details for peace between the nations were being sorted out; Jiraiya took off after that and my missions resumed ... each one more dangerous and bloody than the one before.  The nightmares drove me back for more of Hound’s power and as a result, the kekkai between us shattered.”

 He stopped himself in the nick of time; the intent of offering comfort, arrested before his arm fully stretched out to ease Kakashi’s pain.

 “Good thing Jiraiya didn’t give up on me as easily as I did.  I found out later he’d taken off hoping to locate Lady Tsunade; by coincidence, he found her in Tanzaku Quarters - by providence, a mission gone wrong brought the three of us together in that place.”

 “Tanzaku Quarters?  Wasn’t that a town near Konoha’s eastern border of and didn’t Orochimaru destroy it a few years ago?”

 “Right on both counts, Tenzou.”

 “Imagine that,” he laughed.  “Lady Tsunade, holed up in a gambling resort.”

 “I know, right … what are the odds?    See this long scar here,” he said grabbing at and dragging Yamato’s hand under the covers and down his left side, “that came from a karambit.  Hound's target, some crazed kunoichi fought him off and stabbed him up real good before he broke her neck and cut her heart out of her chest.  And this one right here," he said drawing his kohai's fingers over the tiny scar under his left cheekbone, “this one was Lady Tsunade’s doing.”

 Yamato wanted to linger; his hand under that of his captain, their bodies so close together, yet he knew better.  Slowly inching backwards, he returned to his side of the bed.

 “The townsfolk knew Tsunade was a medic-nin and since his clothing marked him as a Leaf ninja and his tattoo branded him as ANBU, they thought it best if she treated him.”

 “He must’ve been in bad shape then, senpai.  I can’t even remember the last time he let anybody take him to a hospital.”

 “Believe it or not, Hound dragged himself there from the next town over ... collapsed in a bloody heap on their doorstep.  He made the mistake of lunging at one of the female medics as soon as he regained consciousness … turned out to be Lady Tsunade.  So, on top of the rest of his injuries, he was spittin’ out chunks of plaster for days after she punched him through a wall.”

 “Yep,” Yamato laughed, “sounds like something she'd do."

 “Wasn’t funny at the time, Tenzou … it cracked four of my ribs, broke my cheekbone, split my lip and my mask. That's when she recognized who I … rather Hound was. She cussed him out the entire time was patching him up.”

 “Aha … that explains why he’s so respectful to her … she scares him shitless.  Guess he’s not as stupid as he looks, huh?  Oh, sorry, senpai … what I meant --”

 “An angry punch from Tsunade would scare anybody shitless.  Moving on ...  Jiraiya spent a few days with her after Hound left; he explained my situation and pleaded with her to come up with a way to help me.  She felt so bad for busting up ‘Sakumo-san’s little boy,’ that she worked for weeks developing the seals you saw me use tonight--”

 “Kakashi … Hound said using those things would shorten your life …  was that true?”

 “Hell of a side effect, isn’t it?  Matter of fact, one of the first things she did after becoming Hokage was stockpile a mess of the seals in the emergency room, her office and Ibiki’s office.  She gave me some too … just in case."

 “So, does this mean that I …  errr …  we’ll never see Hound again?”

 “Try not to sound so disappointed, and no, Hound will be a part of me until the day I die.”

 “He’s a part of you … yet you refer to him as something separate from you.  About that, senpai… how is it possible for him to be in the same place, at the same time that you are?”

 “Whenever I don’t deal with my negative emotions properly, if gives Hound more freedom to act autonomously.  You have no idea how many disciplinary hearings I had to sit through after one of Hound’s rampages.  The Bent Kunai bar … I was the one that paid for its rebuilding--”

 “Why? I heard a grease fire destroyed it.  Don’t tell me … that was you … err, Hound?”

 “You catch on quick”, he sighed.  “Hound was so pissed they wouldn’t serve alcohol to a minor, he burned the place to the ground.  You do remember the kekkai I told you about?”

 “You said it shattered … so?”

 “When they repaired it was designed to suck Hound into another dimension; kinda like a holding pen for a rabid dog or a reverse summoning if you will.   I can call him forth or send him back there as the situation requires … the seals usually weaken him and expedite the process.”

 “Is that where he is now, senpai … another dimension?”

 “Honestly … I don’t know,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.   “Usually when he’s sealed away, I can still sense his presence, but not this time.”

 “Does he hafta come back here in order to--?”

 “Yes.  There are only two ways of forcing him back to where he belongs.  Getting in touch with my positive emotions and verbalizing them or using the seals. The thing is he has to be near my body for--”  

 “Why didn’t it happen when we had him tied down in the living room?”

 “No idea … something’s definitely screwy this time, Tenzou.”

 “This time?  How many times have you used the seals?”

 “Twice; back when we were in ANBU, he tried to kill me after a mission when I let a child survive.  The other time …  we disagreed about his treatment of you.”

“I see,” he said moving closer to Kakashi.  “So that’s why you shared your ‘real’ feelings about me … thought it was gonna be your last hurrah, huh?”

 Kakashi's rich laughter shook the bed.  "Yeah, something like that.”

 “Wow … I never knew any of this stuff before, senpai.  I oughta thank you for trusting me with --” he backed away suddenly.  “Sweet kami!  You’re gonna bump me off now because I know one of your deepest, darkest secrets, aren’t you?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tenzou,” he chuffed.

“You have any idea how much paperwork is involved with something like that?”

 

Notes:

 

Konoha no Shiroi Kiba:  The White Fang of the Leaf (Village).  Sakumo Hatake was a skilled and powerful ninja in his time.  Kind hearted in his roles of husband and father, he was a ruthless weapon of war.  But the village’s admiration of this great man turned to scorn when he abandoned a mission to spare the lives of his team. Sakumo killed himself to shield his only son, Kakashi from a life of shame and ridicule.

 Asperity: harshness or sharpness of tone, temper or manner.

 Dojutsu:  ninja abilities that utilize the eyes; it refers to the eyes themselves or any jutsu dependent on their use. Dojutsu can be transplanted into others despite not have a genetic predisposition for it though it’s use places an inordinate strain on their chakra network.

 Chuff: the sound of or like the exhaust of a steam engine.

 Karambit: – a medium sized knife, shaped like a leopard's claw; crescent shaped, with a single or double edged blade.  Used primarily as a farming implement to rake roots, gather threshing or plant rice.  As it was weaponized, the blade took on more curvature to maximize cutting potential.  It was a popular weapon among women who tied it into their hair to use for self-defense.  

 Kekkai:  a word of Buddhist origin, commonly used in modern fiction to refer to a protective spiritual or magical force field of sorts; a barrier.

 Seppuku: a type of Japanese ritual suicide by disembowelment; originally reserved for samurai.  Part of their code, seppuku was voluntarily performed by samurai to die with honor because they’d brought shame to themselves.

 Ko-wakizashi: short sword.  Wakizashi closer to tantō length (5.9-11.8 inches in length) were called ko-wakizashi. The wakizashi worn together with the katana was the official sign that the wearer was a samurai or swordsman. When worn together, the pair of swords were called daishō, which literally translates as "big-little.”

 Fleer: a derisory grin.  

 


	23. Did You Miss Me?

 “Sounds like your sense of humor survived intact … let’s check it out to be sure.  Hey, I got it,” he said, with a snap of his fingers.  “Let's go back to these alleged feelings you have for me ... oughta be good for a few shits and giggles.”

Kakashi turned his head slowly.  “Alleged?” A silver eyebrow raised precipitously.  “‘Shits and giggles?” Throwing aside the covers he was inches away from Yamato’s face in a heartbeat.  “I damn near ripped out my heart and served it up on a platter--”

“Pfft …” he waved him off, “like you meant everything you said back in the living room … give me a break, senpai. Messing with my head is a sport for you.”

 _Damn, he’s gotta point there …_ he thought as his body relaxed. “How long have you known me, Tenzou … a week?  When was the last time you heard me _voluntarily_ discuss my private feelings at length?”

“Well, there was that one time at Ibiki’s house when you were --”

“I was drunk off my ass … and I don’t care what anybody says …  Itachi did look good in that dress.  Never mind that now,” he sniffed, sloppily repositioning the pillows at his back.  “And for the record ... I’d appreciate it if you gave some kinda warning before you change temperaments; how bout a loud beeping sound?”

Yamato sat up and looked Kakashi square in the eye.  “You seriously wanna go down the split personality road ... with me?”

“Umm … probably not,” he laughed as he inched away. Rolling away from the backrest, he propped up on his elbow as Yamato laid down. “What’s with you,” he asked, pinching at the other man’s arm, “why so salty?”

Jerking his arm away as he sat up again, he snapped, “Answer the damn question, Kakashi.”

“Fine … come on, lay next to me … please?”

"Not gonna happen, senpai.”

They almost bumped heads when Kakashi snatched him down to his level.  “Didn't we already go over this? I told you the truth … meant every word I said -  if that’s not enough then I don’t know what else I can do.”  Angling his body away, he eased against the backrest, folding his arms across his chest. “Now … as to Hound’s return, we’ll need to--"

"See how you just switch things off and on?  Like my feelings are no big deal to you--”

“Right now,” he snapped, “I’ve got bigger fish to fry than you not believing me Tenzou. You know how I am … what more do you want from me?”

He couldn’t bring himself to look at his captain at present, instead he opted for crumpling the sheets beneath angry hands stretched at his sides.  “I don’t get it … what’s so difficult about telling me the freakin’ truth?  What type of 'feelings' do you have for me, Kakashi?"

 “Gotta say, neediness isn’t a good color on you, kohai.” _Shit … me and my big mouth_ , he thought watching Yamato clench his jaw.  “I have … feelings” he stammered, “that are reserved for …  well, you know … you.” 

"Okay.  Are they feelings of duty ...  like a captain has toward a subordinate?"

"Well, yes … and no."   _Crap ... when did I get this close to the edge of the bed?_

Yamato scrunched another yard of fabric beneath his fingers.  “So, you mean, feelings like one has for a teammate … an equal?"

 _He’s just gonna keep pressin’ until I crack._ “Yes, Tenzou,” he sighed.   “The feelings I have for you are something like that and what’s more--”

he swooped down on the unsuspecting man, capturing his face with one hand,

kissing him hard and long enough to shut him up. 

"They’re feelings like that … okay?"

Thunderstruck, he stared up at his captain, alternately poking Kakashi in the chest and pinching at his own cheek.    _Bastard! I can’t believe he did that!_

Kakashi was smiling and chewing at the inside of his lip.    _Score! I can't believe he let me do that!  “G_ uess we should check awkward first kiss off our bucket lists,” he laughed as he flopped against the pillows.  “Now, if you’re ready to hear it, I’ve got a plan for our Hound situation; I mean when he physically returns, he’s gonna be pissed …  we hafta be ready for that.  I suggest we get some sleep.”

_Sleep?  Is he freakin’ kidding me?_

In a flash, Kakashi had an armful of kohai; their bodies, awkwardly pressed against each other, their noses smashed together like a sloppy peanut butter sandwich. He eased back, gladly letting the younger man control their positioning and pace.

Turns out …  it was a good call.

It was at once fiercely passionate yet, gentle, like a new lover’s explorations and a lifelong partner’s knowledge born of confidence and experience.

It was sweet and hot

and ...  weird.

Though he didn’t want to break away as soon as Yamato did, he found himself smiling as a blush warmed his cheeks. “That was pretty good for a second attempt, Tenzou. Although we’re have to work on your approach.”

For that he got a nudge in the ribs and a snort of laughter from the man at his side.

“Listen … before we take this further, will you be honest with me about something else?”

“You don’t have bad breath Kakashi … if that’s what you’re worried about.  Do I?”

“No, nothing like that.  I just need to know why you’ve always shown a preference for Hound over me.”

Scooting backward he positioned himself closer to the edge of the bed.  _Me and my big mouth, just had to keep pushing him, didn't I?_ He half leaned, half sat up _,_ frittering away the silence in a lopsided staring contest; when that failed, he tried killing time by clearing his throat loudly and repeatedly, hoping an answer would drop from the heavens – it didn’t.

“Well _,”_ he said at last, “I’m not sure I’d call it a preference senpai - it’s kinda stupid really.  You know I hadn’t been away from the Foundation that long when I first met Hound; he was less complicated than you are … I mean to say, he had a style of leadership I was already accustomed to--”

“Hmm … alright, I can understand that, however … you haven’t answered the question to my satisfaction.  Surely there’s some other reason you--”

“Lookit … in his strange way, Hound always acknowledged my growth.  I mean, sure he used it like an insult, but at least he tried to call me by whatever my given name was at the time.”

Kakashi thoughtfully ran his fingers over his lips.   “He calls you ‘boy’ all the time too … that doesn’t bother you?”

“Didn’t I say it was a stupid reason?”

“You did … and it is.” Slowly, he moved back into an upright position, adjusting the covers over his lap.  “Kinoe was the name given you in the Foundation … Tenzou was the name you chose; to think I was so proud of myself for respecting your choice--”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?  I thought it was just laziness or your way of reminding me of how gullible I was in my early ANBU days and--”

“Oh no … you’re still gullible--”

“ _Jackass_ ,” he mumbled under his breath. He looked up in time to see Kakashi's lashes flutter when he blew out an exasperated breath.

“Fine, from now on ... guess it won’t kill me to address you as … _Yamato_.”

“Okay, okay, senpai, look … you were kinda makin’ me think too hard about this thing and I ... didn’t exactly tell you the whole truth, alright?  Hound was dangerous and unpredictable,” he blurted out.  “You were always … safe to an extent.  But that unpredictability of his … it challenged me …and,” he said, lowering his voice and eyes, “it kinda excited me in a …  sexual way.”

Sliding down so that they were facing one another, Kakashi teased, “So, he stokes your furnace huh?  That the whole truth?”

As he wiped the sweat from his top lip he hissed, “If you start laughin’ at me, I’ll strangle ya with these bargain basement sheets!”

“Aaah …Tenz …  err … Yamato.  Reckon this truth tellin’ business isn’t as easy as you thought? How ‘bout a compromise? You’ll be Tenzou to me in private, and _Yamato_ in public. That work?”

Once more there was an awkward handshake; Kakashi refused to let him go this time.

“I want you all to myself, Tenzou … I always have.”

“Whoa … where’d that come from?”

Inching closer to him, Kakashi quietly admitted, “I don’t mean just sexually, though I’m pretty sure I’d like that part too.”  He let go the other man’s hand and inched backwards to see him better.  “I always wanted something more than friendship with you since we were in our twenties - kept talking myself out of it …  didn’t think it was fair to you ... I had a shitload of crazy back then--”

“Had?  Oh, please, you’re still nuttier than three fruitcakes combined Kakashi.  But if this helps any ... I felt the same way about you ... since my teens; thought it was just a phase, so I tried to ignore it.”

He let go the other man’s hand with a sigh.  “I never thought you’d be able to put up with my quirks outside a mission – you have no idea how much it used to scare me.  I was kinda afraid that you’d be repelled by this fetish of mine too … knew you’d never understand it--”

“Kakashi,” he said grabbing his arm, “you’re rambling.  Gimme a little credit, will ya? I put up with your quirks because I trust you despite the craziness.  And as to this fetish of yours …  I realize there are ninja out there into far scarier things.”

“You’re talkin’ about Genma, right?”

“No … why?  What’s he into … never mind,” he said covering his ears. That’s the other thing … your recall is outta whack too; don’t you remember showing me all that stuff in the secret part of the armoire?  Did I freak out then?  No.  Did I understand it? Nope.  Did I ever think I could jump on board with the whole whips, clips and restraint things?  Not in a million years … but tonight, well … guess it wasn’t so bad after all.”

“That’s because Hound was doing most of--”

“Seriously?  You do realize I could've escaped at any point during the evening, yeah?”

Kakashi shrugged.

“The reason I stayed put was because I was made to understand two very important things.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he rolled onto his back and folded his hands under his head.  “All my life … I ran around tryna please everybody else so they’d like me.  It finally dawned on me that the only reason you resorted to physical discipline was because … you … you cared about me. Never had that with anyone else … probably wouldn’t let anyone else attempt such a thing either.   The other reason I stayed was … well … on some level … what you and Hound were doing, gave me pleasure and--”

“Guess that makes you a degenerate just like me –”

“I’m not a degen --”

“Damn,” Kakashi snickered, “that’s gonna be rough, but I’ll put up with your masochistic behavior if I have to.”

“Gee … thanks, senpai.”

“Okay, now it’s your turn, Tenzou … didn’t you say there were some things you wanted to get off your chest too?  Don’t give me that face … I opened up to you, so, go on … what embarrassing things did you wanna tell me?”

Yamato slowly rolled over again, his hands resting on his stomach.  “You already know I wanted a transfer from your command,” he said quietly.  “And you know one of the reasons why.  Well … the Foundation ordered me to kill you once--”

“I seem to remember that … it was the second time we met.”

“Couldn’t do it, obviously.  But after I'd been in the regular ANBU about three months, I was called before The Council of Elders. They thought you or rather, Hound were … ‘unhinged’ was the word they used--”

“Not exactly news, Tenzou.  What did the Hokage say about that?”

“The Sandaime wasn't at the meeting.  The Council ordered me to do whatever it took to earn your trust … to take whatever Hound dished out and then … and then, to make your death either look like an accident or a --”  

“Suicide … those slimy bastards!”

“After your death, I was to collect blood and hair samples from your corpse … DNA, that way the village could continue your family line.”  He turned to face his captain, “I might have done it too, Kakashi …  back then, obeying orders without question or emotion was still a part of who I was.”

“I know … that's how you were programmed,” he said, “but Hound's survival instincts would have been stronger than your orders … we might have killed you, Tenzou.”

“The Council had a plan for that too.  Locking you up for the rest of your natural life; that way, they could extract DNA from you whenever they wanted.”

 He took a beat and inched away from his captain.

“Tenzou,” he said moving toward him, “I know what that sort of life was like … no hard feelings.”  As they slipped into a quiet embrace, Kakashi choked up.  “I’m so sorry they tried to take illegal advantage of --”

“Such is our lot, senpai,” he sighed.  “Fortunately for you ... I always saw worth in what others called trash.”

“I'm … flattered?”

“Wait … I’m not finished,” he laughed as he moved away.  “I requested transfer from under your command … three times to be exact and three times was the request denied. You, me, Hound … we worked well together and that’s all the higher ups cared about.  But I was so confused about my feelings for you and him … knew one day it would distract from doing my job … almost got us killed this last time. “

“Sounds like a self-fulfilling prophecy … almost like you wanted to be found out.”

“I don’t think so.  You know, I went through periods of time where I questioned my sexuality because of you.  I knew I was supposed to like girls like all the rest of the guys did, so I thought something was wrong with me; couldn’t talk to anybody about it … lotta my sleepless nights were your fault.”

Kakashi reached out, pressing a finger to Tenzou’s lips.  “Now you’re rambling; take a deep breath and let me see if I got things straight in my mind.  As your captain, I was a ‘by the book’ kinda guy, which you appreciated, but apparently, I was too laid back for your tastes. Hound was more …  intense--”

“Actually, he reminded me of my first mentor in the Foundation--”

"Lord Danzou?  Sheesh,” he shuddered, “hate to think any part of me reminds you of him.  Sorry, go on ...  Hound's demeanor made him attractive to you --"

"Well, yes … and no.”

“His personality is that much different from mine?"

"Again, I’d have to say, yes … and no.  I mean --"

"Tenzou,” he smiled patting his chest, “Hound _is_ me … and _I am_ Hound."

"Yes, yes …  I understand all that,

but at the end of the day, since it's still you …   what does it matter?"

"Oh, it definitely matters …you only tolerate me on the off chance of seeing Hound; he’s the star attraction, I’m just a supporting player --”

“No … yes … not necessarily … look,” he said scratching at his temple, “I can’t explain it.”

"And yet you don’t deny tolerating me for Hound's sake."

"I didn’t say that … stop twisting my words!"

"It's okay.” he said when he rolled onto his back and further away from his kohai.  “Hard to think I've been playing second fiddle to my alter ego all these years, but ... there it is."

“I knew you long before I met Hound, you big chucklehead; we were comrades and friends too, or so I thought; Hound was just a team leader--”

“Team leader, my ass!  Don’t forget … I can see that look in your eye whenever you’re with him--”

“Really, senpai? You know I'd swim naked through an ocean of razor blades and man-eating sharks for you."

 “I’d do the same, Tenzou; here’s hoping we’ll never have to prove that.  But, I hafta say I’m grateful to Hound for getting one thing right this evening.”

“I’m sure I don’t wanna know--”

“He let me see a side of you I never knew existed.”

“You saw more than a side of me, that’s for damn sure.”

“Yes, I did.   I’d forgotten what a big boy you are, but then again ... my recall is outta whack.”  In one swift motion, Kakashi rolled over, hooking his arm around Yamato’s waist and pulling him close.  “Tell me something … would you prefer I humiliate you or call you ‘boy’ whenever I don’t care to remember your name?   Cause if that’s true … you gotta a lotta nerve calling me a pervert.”

Yamato pushed him away.  “This again?  For the last time, this thing with Hound isn’t perverted, Kakashi …

it's just a … a … hell, I don’t know what _it_ is – it just is!"

“Maybe I will be strict with you from now on, _Yamato,_ he said as he moved closer. “That means, taking you over my knee and paddling you like a naughty little boy whenever you misbehave … you seemed to like that--”

“I didn’t … I … don’t--”

“I see … then you'd prefer it if I bound you up tight and took a whip to your hard cock and balls--”

“Enough, Kakashi!”

“Oh …  I see, only Hound has that privilege--?”

“Neither of you has that privilege --”

“Why not?”

“Because damn it, you’re Kakashi!”

“But I'm also Hound.”

“Well, you're not him right now, so …

just shut up and be yourself!”

His captain inched away, pointing at him with one hand and clutching at his stomach with his other arm as he laughed.

"The hell's so funny now, senpai?"

"Us. You’re attracted to the other part of me and I'm jealous of the other part of me because of you."

“That’s it,” Yamato said, yanking away the covers.  “I’m gettin’ the hell outta here and away from your crazy ass.”

With a strong forearm to the neck, Kakashi pushed him onto his back, throwing himself atop him. "You're not going anywhere, _Yama_ _to_ ," he snarled. "Now … what to do ... what to do ...  shall I force you to your knees, grab you by the hair and ram my cock down your throat?"

"Get off me, you ass … it’s not funny anymore, Kaka --"

"Or," he said as his fingers wrapped around his throat, "shall I bark commands into your ear while I fuck you from behind?"

Tenzou slammed shut his eyes – a myriad of sensations, overpowering reason and self-preservation as his captain's cock grazed over his navel.  Squirming beneath the deceptively heavy body, desperate for freedom even as he longed to be possessed by the man holding him down - words failed him.

 "How interesting this is, _Yamato_ ,” he said, grinding his hips against his kohai's willing body.  "You went from completely disinterested to hard as a brick when I spoke to you as Hound would."

"I don't want Hound," he spluttered. "I want you to be you and --"

"Which part of 'me’ do you really want?"

"I want the part of you that's still sane!  Goddamn it! Let me go, Kakashi!”

The hand encircling his throat squeezed tighter and his eyes widened with fear when he heard the voice above him growl –

" _Watch that insolent little mouth of yours, boy!"_

His breath caught in his throat as he looked up into that cloudy grey eye.  _That voice … it can’t be …_

Ka ... ka ... Kakashi?”

 

*****     *****     *****

On the rooftop above them materialized a lone shadowy figure; it's white cloak agape on the wings of gentle night breezes.  As its ceramic dog mask was secured in place, the winds carried the sound of his laughter to the heavens.  A black leather hand reached down to the kunai holster strapped around his thigh. Waves of malicious intent radiated from his body, sending the birds resting on nearby tree branches to flight.

 "Well, well … looks like I got back just in time.”

 


	24. I'm Back

A flush of color shot from scalp to waist - then came a surge of energy, racing down his limbs like a house afire.  Tremors annihilate fine muscle control as a glut of chakra flooded his system.  His eyes rolled back in their sockets and his body slumped forward.

_Alrighty ...   this definitely isn’t my usual arousal response._

He would've laughed out loud at the irritated voice of his kohai,

if he could've.

“Helluva time to take a nap … get up … you’re heavy as hell, you know that?  Enough damn it, quit fooling around before I change my mind.  Kakashi … taichou?  Aww shit …  Kakashi ... can you hear me?”

  _Okay ...  now I can hardly move … not good._

_Chakra pills finally kickin’ in?_

_Maybe ... took enough of the damn things._

_No, that’s not it …_

_Shit!_

He slid his fingers alongside his kohai’s shoulder, clumsily signing these words against his skin:

_Me … can’t move …_

_you … don’t talk …_

_Hound … very near._

“Yeah … sure he is.  Listen …  if all you wanna do is play games ... I suggest you get off me now,” he said, struggling beneath his captain’s body.   “Not in the mood for stupid shit.”

“Tenzou, does it look like I’m playin’?”

The younger man heaved a sigh, sparing his captain a weary glance.   _Okay, his face and chest are brick red, his skin is hot and kinda clammy, his arms look ready to give out and he can barely support the weight of his upper body._   _What now?_ Without a second thought he tossed Kakashi onto his back when he shot up.  “I just thought you were havin’ one of your paranoid … I mean … what can I do to help?”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“I don’t like that look … you’re hiding something from me.  Hound’s comin’ back to kill us … isn't he?”

“And you say I’m paranoid--”    

“Damn," he said looking around the room, "we’re gonna need weapons!”

Grabbing him by the elbow before he could roll out of bed, Kakashi laughed, “Calm down … that won’t be necessary.”

Shaking his arm free, Yamato rolled his eyes.  “Right … what was I thinking? Ordinary weapons won’t be enough to stop him …  got any wolfs bane?”

“Tenzou … you’re flippin’ out and by the way, Hound isn’t a mythical creature.  ‘Sides, with the amount of chakra that’s runnin’ through me right now I’d say, he’s extremely weak--”

“Weak? Hound? For god’s sake Kakashi ...  I’ve seen him take down three opponents at once with a freakin’ katana sticking out of his gut!”

“Relax, the kekkai is drawing him back, that’s all,” he said, slinging his arm across Yamato’s stomach.  “Pretty sure his return should be without incident, this time.”

“I’ve seen that reabsorption process with my own eyes, remember? _We humiliated him_ \- that’s what you said ... he’s out for our blood, Kakashi--”  

“Please lower your voice” Yanking him down he whispered, “Hound isn’t gonna harm us--”

“Bullshit!  He’s insane … ‘ _beyond your control’_ … you said so!”

“Will you hush up and listen--?”

“No!  I don’t care what you’re gonna say Kakashi.”  Sitting up, he looked down at his obviously mistaken captain.  “Since he’s coming back to kill us anyway … I’m going out in the way I choose.”

“You’re gettin’ worked up over nothing,” he mumbled trying to push himself up.

Suddenly, he was flat on his back with Yamato clambering atop his prone body. Awkwardly pinned to the mattress, tawny fingers grasped at his face and whatever else he meant to say, melted into his kohai’s kiss.

“This really isn’t the time ... I have to mentally prepare myself for his--”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he murmured against Kakashi’s stiff lips.  “It’s perfect.  This way we can drain what’s left of his strength. You’ll be showing your real feelings for me … it’ll stop him dead in his tracks--”  

“Or it might enrage him … you willing to take that chance?”

Boldly straddling his waist, Yamato fell on him; chest to chest, their erections stirred as they slid against each other.  “What’s the matter, senpai,” he asked grinding his hips against him, “you scared or somethin’?”

Kakashi lay stunned for a few seconds; his body reacting on its own, he grabbed two handfuls of flexing butt cheeks, maneuvering Tenzou’s hips for maximum friction.  Unfortunately, his brain clicked in gear - pushing the younger man away he breathed,  

 “Tenzou … we can’t do this now … not under these circumstances.”

“Why the hell not, Kakashi? I ask so little … it’s the least you could do for me.”

Seeing the disappointment in those wide eyes and the slight pout on his lips, Kakashi gave him a crooked smile. _What a brat_ , he thought.   Flinging caution to the winds, he hooked his hand at the nape of his kohai’s neck, flipping them over - his other hand trapping their cocks together.   “If you insist … your wish is my command.”

Exchanging breaths,

ingurgitating every groan of the man beneath him,

their hearts beat in concert until Yamato eased him aside once more.

“Umm, senpai … I … you see, the thing is … I’ve … well, I’ve never been … you know … with a man before.”

“You tell me this now?

Tenzou, after all that … seriously?  You never?  Not even ... mission sex?”

Meekly waving his hand between them, Yamato choked out an uneasy laugh.   “Only Rosie Red Palm, her five sisters and the bathhouse whores when that didn’t suffice.”  With a gentle stroke down his captain’s cheek, they lock eyes and he dared whisper, “Figured if I was ever gonna be with a man …  I … well … I always wanted it to be you.”

Immediately, Kakashi rolled onto his back, falling into default mode

… _analytical,_

as his fingernails scrape against the grain of his stubbly chin.

_Scratch … Scratch … Scratch_

“Still not sure about this,” he finally said.  “I mean …  it would torment me for the rest of my life if I thought you--”

“What?  Felt pressured by Hound’s presence … or I was somehow coerced by your trickery?” Twisting onto his side, he cupped Kakashi’s cheek, giving it a little slap.  “Get over yourself … you’re not forcing me into anything I didn’t ask for.”

“Tenzou, are you ... sure?”

Yamato carved out a path with his fingers - straight down Kakashi’s chest, over his belly and through the loosely curled happy trail; his nails, grazing over the glans penis, slowly following the curves of the corona and down the thick veiny concatenation leading to the base of his captain’s shaft.  His strokes, timid and teasing at first, became exigent when he closed his eyes and said, “What a manipulative ass you are senpai … practically making me beg for your cock. Let’s see if I can make this plain enough for you to understand:

Fuck me, Kakashi…

pummel my body with every negative emotion locked inside you,

empty out all the fear and doubt -

funnel your rage and bitterness into me--”

Slender fingers clamp over Yamato’s lips.  “Damn if you don’t sound like one of Jiraiya's books.  Hope you understand what you've talked yourself into.”

Seconds later, he was looking up into the slate grey eye of the man he’d waited twelve years to see this way.  Wiping away a gathering tear with the back of his hand as their lips met, he hardly paid any mind to the noise Kakashi made as he rummaged through one of the head board’s compartments.

“I don't wanna hurt you, Tenzou,” he said easing his body away.

“You have to relax … alright?”

"Okay," he breathed. When next he opened his eyes, Kakashi was holding two small containers in his hand. One, a thick moisturizing ointment developed for ANBU use in subzero temperatures; the other, a numbing and healing compound, like the one slathered over the welts left by the cane, the switch and quirt on his thighs and balls.    _Oh, my god … this is really happening!_  He almost jumped off the bed when the tip of his captain’s tongue slithered around an erect nipple and when Kakashi’s hand wandered down, alighting at the base of his cock, he stopped breathing for a second.  Warm breath breezed over the places where his captain's lips and tongue once played and then Kakashi went in search of a new objective.  Fingers of brown now twist in a field of white grey hair, gently pulling Kakashi down and pushing his bobbing head up, encouraging him to go deeper, to suck harder.  

All too happily did his captain comply, drinking in his kohai’s pleasured grunts.  

But from the quickening breaths, the nails sinking into the top of his shoulders and the erratic movement of the younger man’s hips, Kakashi knew …

Tenzou was close

but Hound … was closer still.

"What's the matter now?  Kakashi … why'd you stop?"

“You’re still very inhibited," he lied.  Peeling his body away, he knelt between Tenzou's legs, saying, “Close your eyes ... pretend you’re in your own bed, pleasuring yourself--”

“Not sure I can do that knowing you’re watching me.”

“Since when do you have a problem teaching me new techniques?  I promise… I’ll never tease you about this,” he said, balancing the open container of moisturizer in his palm.

 _This is too weird,_ he thought. _“Yeah,”_ the coherent part of his brain chimed in.   _“You know damn well he’s gonna tease us about this for the rest of our days.”_

Yamato skeptically studied his captain’s face as he curled his body upward; convinced by that sincere expression, he skimmed his fingers across the surface of the thick emollient, and rolled back against the pillow.  As the cool concoction deliquesced into his skin, he closed his eyes, letting his thoughts roam through the archives of erotica freshly gathered these past few hours.  In his mind, Hound was standing before him, quirt in hand; he winced, as even now, he could hear the leather tails piercing the air around him, seeking out their target.  Drawing his legs up, the soles of his feet flat against the mattress and his thighs spread wide, he started rolfing his cock, palpating himself from base to rosy crown.  

Meanwhile, Kakashi sat mesmerized, recording every movement with the Sharingan – matching his kohai stroke for stroke as he fisted his own cock, until …

from the living room, he felt a thread of chakra working its way through the front door locks;

the tumblers loudly _clunked_ over as the doorknob turned.

He stopped short his pleasure at the _squeaking_ of a loose floorboard, just beyond the genkan.  He turned his head slightly when he heard the distinct _click_ of metal spikes treading over wooden slats.

 

Hound was inside the apartment.

 

**TMTC    TMTC  TMTC TMTC**

 

_Damn it!  Your timing is really fucked up!_

 “Hmm …that’s gonna be a problem Tenzou.   If you keep up all that moaning and writhing about, you’re gonna make me cum,” he said. “And since I’d hate to bring your first experience to an untimely conclusion, what say we take our time?   Although … I have to wonder … what sort of thoughts are running through your mind just now?”

“Nosy bastard,” he panted when he opened his eyes.    “You just wanna hear me talk dirty don’t you?”

“Works for me.”

“So you’re stallin’ …  tryna see if I'll lose control of myself--”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Well, I’m not gonna share my thoughts … how ‘bout I tell you what I see instead Kakashi?”  Fistfuls of the sheets wad themselves beneath his hands as he moved down, spreading his thighs over those of his captain.  “The dark pink color of your cock, pulsating against a milk white stomach … my hand, reaching to pull our bodies closer … like this.  From the corner of my eye, I can see you fumbling for that jar of cream beside my thigh.  Have to imagine you’re about to prep me to receive you--”  

“So clinical, Tenzou--”

“Cut me some slack, ya perv,” he laughed.  “Dirty talk doesn’t come as easily to me as it does you.”

“For now, the virginal blushing works just as well, however, before you can ‘receive me,’ I’ll have to make sure you’re properly relaxed.”

Yamato held his breath, watching Kakashi slick up their cocks; had to make himself breathe every time that firm hand squeezed them together - he tensed up with every stroke, realizing his captain was reaching out with his other hand for the numbing cream.

“Don’t … not yet,” he said.   “Wanna feel your fingers moving inside me … like they did when I was over your knee.” At this point, he’d lost control over the movements of his body, levering himself upright, he wrapped his arms around Kakashi’s neck.  

He almost scared himself silly when that scream ripped from his throat.  And as bright white lights flashed behind his closed eyelids, he felt Kakashi’s arms tightening around his back; a frustrated groan rattled against his chest as his body was eased to the mattress.

“Hatake one … tension zero,” he heard his captain say as he leaned over him. “So, guess you’re ready for round two? Nah … just kidding, besides,” he said, easing off the trembling body beneath him. “We’re gonna need condoms.”

As he sat on the side of the bed, wicking up the evidence of Tenzou’s ‘relaxation,’ with one of the sheets he sensed Hound standing at the mouth of the hallway.

Electrically charged atoms danced in the atmosphere, prickling up the fine hairs on his forearms as he walked toward the dresser.

 _So much for you being considerably weaker Hound-san_ , he thought as he walked to the dresser.

   _You stay right where you are, hear me?_

 _“Wouldn’t move a muscle if you paid me, Captain,”_ Hound politely responded.

_The hell possessed you to come back now?_

_“Whispers on the wind say two shinobi in this apartment were about to get busy; couldn’t possibly stay away … you know I gotta weakness for live sex shows.  If you make it good for me, once it’s over …  I’ll go quietly.”_

“You damn well better,” he mumbled when he slammed shut the dresser drawer.   

“Better what, senpai?”

“Huh?  Just talking to myself … terrible habit that.”

With little foil wrapped packages in hand, he turned to see Tenzou lying there with his eyes closed, his hand slowly stroking at his cock.

Starting again without me?”

“Yep … get a move on senpai.”

With a flying leap, Kakashi was on the bed, the little foil wrapped packages raining down on his kohai’s stomach.  “Pick a color … any color you like.”

Looking beyond the multi-hued litter to where his captain rested on his knees, Yamato laughed.  “Like it’s gonna matter.”  It was then he noticed, Kakashi hadn’t reached the same happy ending as he did.  “Aww, damn … I’m sorry … come here … let me--”

“Nope … it’s your turn to watch, Tenzou; you still haven’t relaxed enough and I’m afraid of being overzealous.”  Despite the fact all his senses were on high alert, Kakashi remained on his knees, jerking off as he looked down at the smile on Yamato’s face.

Hound was moving closer.  

 _Feels like he's inside the room, hovering over me … but I know that's impossible,_ cause _I can hear him sliding his back against the wall outside the room,_ he thought.  Just the idea of his alter ego, unable to do anything but watch as he was seconds away from claiming the prize Hound longed for was enough.  A loud grunt fell from Kakashi’s lips as he watched his essence embellish the tawny landscape of Tenzou’s stomach and chest.

“Mine,” he hissed through gritted teeth.  

_Now I understand …_

_Hound … you sadistic bastard!_

He willed his body to land softly against his kohai this time, as Hound’s maniacal laughter bounced around inside his head.  

_That’s why you came back when you did,_

_knowing full well that the_

_pain of our joining would force me to hurt him._

_I can’t let that happen,_ he thought, nipping and sucking at the column of the younger man’s neck.

_Just a few minutes more Tenzou and it’ll all be over … I hope._

**TMTC    TMTC  TMTC TMTC**

Stilling his captain’s head in his hands, Yamato pulled him into a ravenous kiss, rolling them over so that now he was on top. And when that deep, possessive growl boomed from Kakashi’s chest and skipped against his lips, it made his toes curl.

However, his captain would not be pinned down for long.

An iron grip applied pressure to the base of his cock and seconds later came the cool sensation of the numbing cream spreading around his entrance.  He was shaking like a leaf in the wind when two slender fingers slipped inside, gently scissoring him open.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “can’t fight … kekkai … it’s …  was wrong … he’s too strong.” He swooped down, viciously biting a hardened nipple - the gasp it elicited allowed two fingers to become three.

“ _That’s it,”_ the voice above him growled _, “open up for me, boy_.”

For Yamato, it no longer mattered whether Hound or Kakashi was speaking - he blindly clawed at the air, hoping to snag a piece of the man above him.  

“Yes sir,” he keened.

All the while, Hound taunted Kakashi.  _“Horny little fool; did you seriously think I’d miss my chance to tap that sweet ass?”_

Kakashi swallowed down the thought. _I won’t let you hurt him!_

_“Won’t let?_

_Not a damn thing you can do to stop me, ya little pussy!_

_Maybe you oughta be more concerned about_

_the pain I’m gonna give you.”_

Notes:

Ingurgitate: greedily swallow; engulf.

Deliquesce:  melt; liquefy.

Exigent: requiring a great deal or more than is reasonable.

Rolf(-ing): a holistic system of bodywork which uses deep manipulation of the body’s soft tissues to balance the myofascial (of or relating to fascia surrounding and separating muscle tissue) structure; it has been shown to relieve physical and mental stress.  While masturbation isn’t its intended purpose, knowledge of this technique certainly doesn’t hurt the process.

Concatenation: connection, a series of interconnected or interdependent things.

 


	25. Pain, Pain Won't Go Away

“Geez … what’s with that face?  Am I doing something wrong, Kakashi?”

“How’s that?”  

“Well ... you stopped again ...  so naturally, I thought--”

“Huh?  No …  Tenzou, it's not you.”  He let his hand fall limp, bedaubing oily fingers against the sheet.  “I … I just don’t think I can do this right now.”

“Understood... refractory time,” he said with a knowing wink. “Nothing to be embarrassed about senpai ... most men your age have the same prob--”

“I’m three years older than you smart ass and the only problem I have right now is Hound.”

“This again?  I don’t understand why it’s taking so long--”

“If you knew you’d be cast into utter darkness for an indeterminable time ... would you leap at the chance to do it Tenzou?”

“Probably not ... but once he's inside his holding pen, he poses no threat, right?  Okay, here’s the deal, you can either sit there worrying about something that’s gonna resolve itself in a few minutes, or you can wonder how long it’ll take before I get up and leave.  So ... you gonna do me properly or what?”

“Admire your confidence kid,” he said ruffling Tenzou’s hair.  “And though I always knew you had stamina, I never would've pegged you for a power bottom--”

“A pow-- what the hell is that?”

“Tell ya later.  Now then,” he said brushing his hand over a taut stomach, “where were we?” _He’s right of course ...  I’m making this a bigger deal than it is. Hound’s cogency over me dwindles with each step he takes._ He swiped his fingers over the open emollient container as he feathered kisses against his kohai’s lips, jaw and the sensitive skin of his neck. _There’s no need to fear … by now, Hound should be weakened beyond the point of physical resistance._

**TMTC     TMTC    TMTC     TMTC**

_That’s weird,_ Yamato thought. _For whatever reason, my muscles are fighting back against the intrusion_.   _It’s not painful, per se, just this side of a strange fullness that didn’t bother me before._ “Hold up a minute, senpai.  I don’t know what you’re doing differently, but that kinda stings.”

Instantly, unbridled rage overtook Kakashi’s good sense. He listened in horror as the gruff voice barreled from his throat;

“Settle down goddamnit!”  

His frightened eye beheld the gnarled fingers twined about a hank of brown hair as he took in the pained expression on Tenzou's face; helpless he could do nothing to ease the tension building inside the body struggling against his.

“My dick’s wider than my fingers, boy …  and if you can’t handle this --”

“No … no, I can handle it … just wasn’t sure it was supposed to feel like that.”

As quickly as it came, the wrath dissipated.  “Aww fuck!  Tenzou, this isn’t me,’ he hissed, withdrawing his fingers.  “Hound … parting shot … he’s tryna--”

“Figured out that much on my own senpai.  It’s okay … we’ll ride it out … together.   I trust you, Kakashi, I know you can bring him under control.”

 _Would that were true,_ he thought. “You still wanna do this?”

“We’ve come this far.  And if you leave me all hot and bothered, there’s no telling what I might do to you,” he said with a laugh.

“Alright … this is gonna sound strange but … I want you to think of yourself sitting on the toilet tryna take a dump--”

“Wow senpai … can this get any sexier?”

“Don’t be a wiseacre.   You hafta relax that inner sphincter muscle, Tenzou and as silly as it sounds … that’s the best way to do it.  Remember” he said tearing open a randomly selected packet, “take a deep breath and push down as I enter and it’ll --”

“Are you shittin’ me?”  He raised a finger to Kakashi’s lips, “Not another word …  heard it as soon as I said it.”

“Trust me … you’ll be glad for the crude advice later.   Think you’re ready?”

“Yeah … I think … that I think I’m ready.  A moment … please?”

“Concentrate on relaxing your body,” he said slathering a dollop of moisturizer over his condom covered length.  “And for heaven’s sake, try not to think about Hound being--”

“Being… what?”

“So near--”

“If he’s near, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?   It means we'll soon be free of him, right?”

“Well … yes and no.”

“Whatever Kakashi … I’m as ready as I’m gonna be.”

Watching the flared head of his cock press against that tiny pink aperture and hearing Tenzou suck in another breath as his eyes fluttered closed, Kakashi slowly pushed forward.  At once, superheated warmth constricts around him; gently moving deeper inside, he held himself in check as the younger man adjusted.  “You doing alright?”

“Fine … just feel you should be doing something else like … I don’t know … moving?”

“As you wish.”  Deliberately he pulled back and eased in again, taking careful note of his kohai’s winces and sighs.

“More … I need more,” he breathed, wrapping his arms tighter around Kakashi’s neck. “Doesn’t feel like you’re taking out your frustrations.”  Grabbing at his captain's hips, he snapped, “Lazy bastard!  Fuck me like you mean it!”

In that split second, Hound rose up inside Kakashi once more.

“You have no idea what you’re saying or to whom you're speaking,

 do you boy?”

“Nope … and right now ... I don’t give a damn!  Now, shut up and fuck me, ya schizophrenic prick!”

With Yamato’s grunts and foul mouthed words egging him on, soon, he’s ramming into him without abandon -  the headboard crazily slamming against the wall with each stroke.  

_Tenzou … always were a quick study, weren’t ya?_

Kakashi could only sit back and listen, until the moment of orgasm drew closer; that’s when Hound’s control over him began to slip. Deftly dipping his hands down and under those round, flexing cheeks, he tilted Yamato’s pelvis just so, aiming for that hidden nerve bundle with the head of his cock.

Once ...

                 Twice ...

                                      Thrice ...

and hot spurts of cum splashed against their stomachs.  

With one last deep thrust, twelve years of pent up sexual frustration flow from him with a shout before he crashed down onto his kohai - their breaths desperate as they clung to one another.

Just outside the bedroom door, Hound’s back collides with the wall; a rivulet of white cum spilling over the back of a black gloved hand.

“ _Ah …  that’s the ticket,”_ he said.  “ _And though_ y _ou kicked me out too soon Kakashi, you did put up a good fight … I’ll grant you that.”_

With his mind clear and his body relaxed … Hound determined to wait in situ until the moment was just right.

_News flash Hatake,_

_I have not yet begun to fight - you aint seen nothing yet.”_

**TMTC      TMTC     TMTC   TMTC**

Green smoke fills the room as Kakashi and Yamato drop off into a deeper sleep; as the mist clears, Hound slips inside the room. After rifling through Kakashi’s pants pockets, the armoire door creaked open.  His kunai holster, filled to capacity, is snapped into place inches above his right knee.  With the two remaining sealing scrolls secured inside the utility pouch at his waist and a razor-sharp katana tucked inside the scabbard at his right shoulder once more, the armoire and closet doors click closed and Hound slinks from the room.

**TMTC      TMTC     TMTC   TMTC**

The sun’s rays blast through the drapes, Tenzou is curled into a ball beside him, his legs tangled in the sheets again and every so often, a tiny smile plays at the corners of his mouth as he slept.  Propped up on his elbow, Kakashi cards his fingers through soft brown hair.  _I know he favors coffee … but all I have is a cupboard full of tea.  Do I have enough food in the fridge?   Maybe I can take him somewhere for a bite to eat later?_ The smell of blood, the soft _rattle_ of metal and the _shush_ of fabric emanating from the open doorway made him turn away from those pleasant thoughts.

“Ah ... that explains that. Knew there had to be good reason why your memories didn’t flood back to me and why I wasn’t exhausted when you allegedly ‘disappeared,’ Hound-san.  Why are you still here?”

_“Why …enjoying the view, of course. You know, it’s funny, I always wanted to be the first to bust him out … and all this time, he was keeping himself chaste for his captain.”_

“I was  a spectator to most of the event, thanks to your interference.”  

_“Still, I’m proud, Hatake … you popped that cherry like a real boss.”_

“Any particular reason you came armed to the teeth to congratulate me?”

_“Naturally I’m armed to ensure cooperation, sir.   Got to thinking about what you said last night … fair play, honesty and all that crap; I think you owe the boy the whole truth.”_

“I’ve told him everything--”

“ _I think not,” he hissed.  “All you did was dredge up shit that should’ve stayed buried.  Obviously, Hatake you don't know me as well as you thought you did.  You believed all that emotional crap was my Achilles heel ... so I played along with it.”_

Kakashi shook his head.  “Noted.  Just tell me how it's possible for you to be here--”

_“Hello? I’m a fuckin’ genius, that’s how.  Let me a see a jutsu once and defeat me with it, shame on me; using the same jutsu against me three times?  Shame on you.”_

“Duly shamed … make your point and get back where you belong.”

_“All in due time my Captain.  This freedom ... I find it rather enjoyable; surely, you can appreciate my reluctance about returning to a cold dark abode--”_

“My heart bleeds for ya Hound-san, but get this through your thick skull; you’re a rook … a worthy chess piece, yes but in the end … you’re simply a tool that moves under my command--”

_“How I miss the old days Kakashi … you used to summon me all the time, but now--”_

“I was ANBU back then … my missions were different; can't very well spring you on a team of unsuspecting genin--”

_“You know, there was an upside to my imprisonment … trapped inside your mind, I had access to every sealing technique you’ve ever learned--”_

“So?”

In an instant, Hound was at the bedside, the tip of his katana poised above Kakashi’s stomach. _“God … you’re such a cocky bastard, makes me glad now that I had nothing but time to plot revenge and figure out other ways to control my destiny--”_

“The hell are you talking about?”

_“I knew when you summoned me this time I’d have to force you to use those seals - to see if all my years of study would finally pay off.  Lady Tsunade, bless her heart, she made the seals with a repeating even numbered sequence ... I figured, all I had to do was place the right combination of odd numbered seals along your tenketsu points to cancel ‘em out.  That way I could--”_

“Create portals for you to come and go as you pleased? Bravo, Hound-san ... you are a fuckin’ genius; alright you’ve had your fun -   time to pack it in.  And get that sword away from me, before I shove it up your ass.”

 _“As you wish, Master, but I’ll not disappear so easily.”_  He turned and walked toward the bedroom door.  “ _Your boy refused to tell his secrets until we beat ‘em out of him. Will I have to do the same with you too?”_

Throwing the covers aside, Kakashi sat up. “Let's take this ridiculous conversation out to the kitchen.”

He leaned against the door jamb with his foot braced against the opposite side of the frame  sucking at his teeth.   _“Don’t think I can let that happen either, Chief.  See, I’m here to make sure we put all our cards on the table and--”_

“…’kashi,” Yamato sleepily patted him on the stomach. “You’re dreaming … wake up and go to sleep.”

“Shhh… just talking to myself again.”

“Very annoying … talk softer.”  Yamato sat up, squinting against the light streaming into the room.

“Hound-san!

I mean … sir.  What … how … why are you still here?”

“Tying up loose ends …

 seems your captain neglected to update you about a few things--”

“We’re not gonna do this now, Hound!”

Startled by the voice coming from beside him, Yamato leapt from the bed; the sheets still twisted around his ankles, he stumbled toward the closet, scrubbing his hand over his eyes as he went.  And though his mind was fuzzy with sleep, he realized the only viable exit was blocked by the combat ready Hound.  

“I don’t understand, sir.  What's going on? Didn't I already pay for my mistakes--?

“Simmer down … I aint here for you, boy.”

“And I told you, Hound … I don't want to talk about this here. Let's go out to the kitchen and--”

A black and white blur whizzed toward the bed and the next thing Yamato knew, Kakashi, was glaring up at Hound.

“It’s time he knew everything, don’t you think, _Captain_?”

“I've told him everything he needs to know --”

“Did you now?”  A resounding slap sounded through the room.  “You dare you lie to me?

You leave me no other choice, _sir_ …I’ll get the truth outta you the same way I got it from him.”  He turned Yamato.  “What do you think about that, little puppy?”

Still not comprehending the scene playing out before him, Yamato blearily shook his head.  

“Okay … let’s start with something simple.  Why don’t I tell you what your captain did every time you left his house after a discipline session?”

“That’s irrelevant--”

“Of course, you’re right Hatake, we can’t have him knowing that you’d stand under the shower until the water ran cold, jerking off.  And we certainly don’t wanna fill his head with images of you after a punishment session, now do we?”

“Goddammit!  That’s enough!”

“Why … I remember the first time he took a razor strop to you, boy.  I think you’d hardly stepped foot on the first landing when he ducked down the hallway and plastered himself against the nearest wall.  It was truly a sight … watching as he jacked himself like a fiend until he collapsed and then he--”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth Hound!”

“Why should I?  You wanted him know the truth earlier, didn’t you?”

Grabbing Kakashi by the throat, he dragged him from the bed and flung him across the room. Slammed against the closet door, Hound rushed toward him, the hilt of the katana in his grasp.

Yamato jumped between Kakashi and the charging Hound without hesitation.  “Sir, please ….  don’t do this!  It doesn’t matter what happened back then --”

“Step aside now, boy … I’ve a special job for ya.  Bind your captain hand and foot to the closet.”

“What?” Kakashi latched onto his shoulders, trying his best to pull him out of the way; Yamato would have none of that.   “You’re fucked in the head … _sir;_ there’s no way I could do something like that to --”

“Then you better figure out a way, boy …  and fast,” he said, drawing the katana from its sheath and holding the sharpened edge against the side of Kakashi’s throat.

“Hound-san, what the hell are you doing?  You’ll kill him if you--”

“He resorted to using a jutsu that will shorten our life ... why should I give a damn about his life when he didn’t give a fuck about mine?  He got what he wanted, I figure he can die a happy man, right? Now do as you were told, boy.”

“But, sir--”

“Do it or I’ll make this look like a lover’s quarrel come to a tragic end.”

He pressed the blade deeper into Kakashi’s skin.  “A messy crime scene, the authorities called only after your bodies begin to smell; a hushed-up investigation and once more, the Hatake name will be dragged through the mud.   Is that what you want, Yamato?  His life and mine are you in your hands, boy.  

Best choose wisely.”

 

 

Notes:

Cogency: quality or state of being convincing or persuasive.

Bedaub: to smear all over with something thick, sticky or dirty.

Power bottom:  a bottom who takes charge of a sexual situation, playing a more dominant, aggressive and commanding role in sex.

 


	26. Obverse in Reverse

 Can you believe it? The end is in sight dear readers. Thank you for coming along on this crazy ride; your comments encouraged and inspired and I find I do not have the words to adequately express my gratitude.  
  
That said, let’s see what devilment these three have gotten themselves into now.

* * *

Sunlight gleaming off the double-edged blade almost blinds him yet, he cannot turn away; his eyes follow a trickle of blood as it sped toward the hilt and Yamato cursed the choice set before him.

“Do as he says, Tenzou.”

 _This can’t be happening_ , he thought as two drops of blood splattered against the floor. “Why senpai … why the hell are you asking me to do something like this?”

“So the asshole with the katana at my throat can get his jollies--”

“Tut tut Hatake … have you forgotten? I’m an unstable, and extremely volatile asshole.”

Ignoring Hound for the moment, he looked into the eye of his captain.  “Kakashi,” he softly said, “if I do this … would you … I mean, can you …  forgive me?”

“For what, following orders? I could never forgive you if you didn’t,” he said raising his arms above his head.

“Alright … enough of this sappy shit!  Yamato, make it quick and painful,” Hound growled pressing the blade deeper into his captain’s flesh, “or else.”

“Again sir, if you kill him,” he hissed, “you’re dead too!”

“Oh … I see, a little bit of dick up your ass and suddenly, you’ve forgotten your place.”  Though Hound turned his head toward him slowly, the edge of his blade had already shot out, falling against Yamato’s bobbing Adam’s apple.   “Perhaps I should just slit your throat instead.”

“Leave him alone Hound!”

“Fouling the air with your breath … speaking things unseemly, you both talk too much,” he said as the blade found its place under Kakashi’s jaw once more.  “I’ll deal with you by and by Hatake.  As for you, Yamato, carry out your orders!”

Grudgingly taking his place at Hound’s side, he whispered, “I’m sorry … senpai.” Ingrained and indolent obedience pushed leaden fingers through the four signs;

_Snake …_

_Rat …_

_Dragon …_

_Dog_

The wooden door creaked and groaned, spitting out prickly triangular briers that bit into the flesh of Kakashi’s back.  Torpid tendrils shoot from the briers screeching as they anchor ivory wrists and ankles in place.  

From his captain, a wince, a hiss and a trembling grin.  

From Hound, a hint of glee in his voice. “Well done.   Who knew your kohai was capable of this level savagery?”

“He’s obviously learned from the best.”

“How you do flatter me Hatake, but as I’ve had my fill of your gums poppin’, what say I remedy that bit first?”  

When the katana warily slid inside its sheath, Yamato let out a relieved breath, but in the twinkling of an eye, Hound stood inches away from his captain.  With one hand, he held up a large, clean cloth from his utility pouch; with the other hand, sharp, matte black claws dig into the marmoreal skin of his jaw, tracking angry red lines along the lower half of his captain’s face. Yamato took a step backward as Hound forced open stubborn lips; his stomach turned as he watched his captain’s cheeks puff outward inch by inch while Hound jammed the cloth inside his mouth.  And as Kakashi struggled to control his breathing, Hound gleefully pressed his body backwards into the briers.

The noise of metal scratching at the wooden floor when Hound stepped backward, made him sick to his stomach. Guilt ripped at his soul. _What have I done?  I hafta do something to help him … but if I interfere—_

“Looks like a hairless chipmunk, doesn’t he, boy? Have to give him props though … such effrontery in the face of certain defeat.”

 _And such cowardice from the man who’d ‘swim through an ocean of razor blades’ for his captain_.  _Here I stand, weak in the knees like an imbecile. Damn it!_

Once more, Hound approached his struggling captain; the white woolen cloak, fanning out behind him as he knelt the bound and gagged man.  He dared move a few steps closer, peering over Hound’s shoulder.  A chill shot down his spine when he saw the small brown leather strap hanging between Hound’s fingers; it was the same studded cock ring he’d worn the night before.   He broke out in a cold sweat the moment Kakashi bit back a groan when those cold silver spikes dug into his flesh. 

“Flashes of defiance in that cold grey eye,” he said as he stood, “the sharp bones of his hips, jutting beneath pale skin; wrath and pain etching lines into his brow ... beautiful ... isn’t it?”

 Slowly his eyes fell to the fetter of dark brown wood, imprisoning the ivory skin of his ankles, up to those long lean legs and the musculature of thighs standing at attention when Kakashi twisted his hips this way and that.  Ever upward, Yamato watched the rapid rise and fall of his captain’s abdomen.  _Yes, this is a beautiful sight,_ he wanted to say as his eyes drifted to a lean chest, the skin around his nipples, pebbled.  Thin muscles in his neck made delicate collarbones rise in prominence each time he turned his head.  A flush of dark pink caught his eye and shamed as he was, his mouth watered at the sight of a once flaccid cock, now slowly engorging and weeping. 

How desperately one part of his brain searched for words of reason to speak into this situation, yet the inconscient demands of his body made it impossible.

“Now that I have your attention, Hatake, there is a matter we should discuss privately Yamato,” he barked, “fetch the chair from the kitchen, boy.  Oh, and while you’re gone, don’t bother wracking your tiny brain for a plan to free your captain; hate to make him pay the price for your stupidity … we understood?”

“Yes sir,” he ground out.

Halfway to the exit, Yamato turned about, having formulated a final plea and the courage to speak.  “Sir ... there has to be some other way to handle whatever problem you have with Kakashi.  A fair fight perhaps?” 

Hound’s response was to send a kunai whistling past his cheek.  “I won’t miss next time asswipe! Now get the hell outta here!” It was then he saw the other kunai gripped in Hound’s hand.  Backing away slowly, he shot a desperate glance at his captain. 

With the sound of heavy footfalls echoing down the hall, Hound rose, his mask a scant inch from Kakashi’s nose.  “We’ve some unfinished business you and I.   Since I can’t stomach another twelve years listening to you bitch and moan about your little subordinate, I’ve decided to spill all the beans, Hatake.  We’ll see how much he wants your pathetic ass afterwards.  One thing more,” he said as the tip of a kunai stuck fast against the hollow of his alter ego's throat.  “Did I express my displeasure about being tied up last night? While it looks good on you, don’t ever order him to do something like that again … hear me?"  Clamping a hand over his nose, Hound laughed himself silly, watching the color drain from the original's face.  “Desperation’s a good look on you too, Hatake … maybe I won’t kill ya just yet.” His lungs seized up as the blade trailed down a heaving chest, its edge resting beneath his balls.  “Who knows, maybe our little plaything might still respect you as a eunuch, which is what you’ll be if you ever try to subdue me again. Have I made myself clear?” 

There was a crude yank on the cloth and soon, he found his voice.  “If I’m a eunuch, so are you fool!”

“Well, you got a point there,” he laughed inching the kunai upwards to the side of Kakashi’s throat. “Still, I aint got no problem carvin’ up that pretty face if I hafta.”

“What’s that? Couldn’t hear a word you said over the noise of my knees knocking together; empty threats do that to me Hound.”

“When it comes to talkin’ shit, you got me beat.  Ah, you know me too well, Hatake,” he said when the kunai disappeared inside the holster strapped to his thigh. “I just like fuckin’ with your head and watchin’ you squirm.”  

**TMTC     TMTC     TMTC    TMTC**

The old wooden chair now sat in the center of the room nearest the dresser and Yamato stood at his captain's left side. He and Kakashi watch in silence as Hound fumbled about with his utility pouch; they suck in a collective breath as the armoire key is proudly dangled before their eyes. 

“Outta my way, piss ant.”

Yamato leapt out of the way as the armoire doors swung open. He freaked out a second when Hound reached inside and sent a pulse of chakra into the secret compartment. Kakashi grit his teeth and shook his head as the two-fingered tawse and hairbrush were flung backwards, landing at the foot of the rumpled bed.   And when the long wooden paddle and a riding crop joined the other implements, for the first time that morning, Yamato saw the fear in his captain’s eye.

“Hound … sir, why are you doing this?”

“Because your captain is keeping secrets from; reckon we’ll hafta loosen his tongue the same way--”

“Please … you don’t have to do this--”

“Calm the hell down, I aint got no intention of doing anything.”  Slowly he walked to where Yamato stood, whispering as he skirted around him.  “I was summoned because of my unique skills at extracting truth.”  His breath warmed the back of Yamato’s neck, “And you of all people should know … I never leave a job undone.” Hound grabbed him by the hips, grinding a semi-hardened cock against the cleft of his ass. “Pitiful creature your captain … embarrassed you’re witnessing his shame, yet thrilled to death that you see him in this state.  Look at him … now there’s something for your spank bank; that’s a very erotic image before our eyes, is it not?   The same cock that gave you pleasure, now begging for a bit of its own.”  

The tails of the quirt listlessly flop over Yamato’s stirring cock as he trained his eyes on his captain.

“You’ve delivered him into my hands, all bound up and completely at my mercy … wait a minute, what am I doing?  This is all wrong, isn’t it, boy?”

“Yes,” he breathed, “yes, it is, Hound-san.  I knew you’d see reason once--”

“Oh, I do, Yamato.  Now, spread your legs for me.”

“Sir?”

“You do know I hate repeating myself, right, boy?”

Despite himself, his body melted in Hound’s as he assumed the at ease position.  “ _Oh, my god … look how Kakashi is looking at you,”_ groaned that still, small voice inside his head _.  He hates you now.”_ He almost lost his balance when Hound backed away.

“Hold out your hand,” he said, teasing the handle of the small leather whip against his open palm.  In an instant, a surge of electricity swept through his body as the quirt’s lashes tore at his chest.  Before he could take another breath, a leather encased hand slipped over his hip and wrapped around his cock.  Stroking gently, Hound whispered in his ear, “When we held you captive like this, your thighs were welted and red, crisscrossed with stripes from the cane, the switch and the quirt. Shouldn’t we let him experience the same pain you did?”

 “Aaah, I … I aaah … don’t want to hurt him, sir--”

“Look at him… so furious I’m touching you this way… he’s trying to break free to protect you again; all the while, his dick's gettin' harder watching me stroke your fat cock.”

“Sir, please … can’t think straight with you doing that, I--”

 “You don’t need his protection anymore, do you boy?” he said, the strokes along his cock coming faster and harder.  “But you will need to teach him that he has to share.”  Tightening his grip, he went on to say, “I wonder … what would be his response if I bent you over right now and fucked you before his eyes?  Would you really care what he was thinkin’ while I was balls deep inside you?”

His breathing ragged as that image burned into his mind, his palm slid down Hound’s thigh, meeting no reprisal.  Hound backed away again and on return, the handle of the riding crop finds its way into Yamato’s palm as Hound ground a burgeoning hard on between his cheeks.  “We used an implement designed for horses on you … let's see how much he likes being treated like an animal.   This little thing at the end of the crop is called a ‘popper’,” he said as he moved the frozen arm in a way the weighted strip of leather slapped against side of his leg.  “A slight flick of your wrist will have him up on his toes, squealing like a pig.”  A clawed glove drug his arm through the motion. “Wonder how long before your captain is begging for more?”

The first strike left a tiny white imprint on Kakashi's thigh before it blushed red.  “Now, bring your arm back in the opposite direction, like this and aim for the head of his cock.”

Yamato clenched his teeth and followed through.  

“Not bad,  but watch this … if you use an underhanded strike, it will catch his balls just right.”  At first, he couldn’t wrap his brain around what his arm was doing even when Hound stopped guiding it.  It was only after a half dozen strikes that he noticed his captain’s reaction.

‘Angry euphoria’...

was the only way to describe the look on his Kakashi's face; those exquisite murmurs of pleasure and the way a slow smile spread over his lips, sent a swell of confusion through Yamato’s body.

_This feels so wrong, yet watching him writhe,_

_hearing him moan … it’s doing something to me that it shouldn’t._

“Don’t tell me you’re wimpin’ out already?  Those sharp intakes of breath …. the red stripes scattered over his dick not doing it for you?”

“Sir … please, this is …  too confusing--”

“Of course, how silly of me.  I can tell you wanna apologize for letting me use you to tease him.  Well, go on then… give your captain a hand,” he laughed.

Yamato didn’t dare look back, knowing this was one of Hound’s ploys, nor did he give a damn.  Even before the crop crashed to the floor, he was standing before Kakashi.  At once, he peppered his cheeks and lips with apologetic kisses, stopping only to whisper, “What’s the plan senpai?   How do we keep him from--?”

“We don’t. He’s gone off the rails and he’s heavily armed.  No heroics … understand?”

Startled, he took a half step back, studying his captain’s face.  _Maybe all Hound wants is a show_ , he thought as he slid down that sinewy body, careful not to press him into the spikes until his lips grazed over the head of his captain's cock. He thought to loosen the cock ring, but quickly dismissed the idea.   On his knees, he gently grabs hold of the warm shaft with one hand, as his other hand cups and squeezes the tender scrotum.  Licking his way upward, he opens wide his mouth and draws the head of his captain’s cock between his lips.

A gasp and a tremor of his thighs as Kakashi’s body stiffens.

“There’s a good boy; tease him to the point he’s ready to cum and then … leave him wanting.”  Fingers tangle in his hair and claws dig into his scalp. “Go on … take his cock deep--”

“Stop it Hound! He can’t breathe!”

“Please … you aint that big hot shot; ‘sides, my game, my rules.  I'm sure he’ll figure out a way to breathe, eventually.   Humph … _‘Adapt or Choke,’_ sounds like a fun drinking game,” he said grabbing Kakashi by the throat and slamming his body backward into the spikes, all the while forcing Yamato’s head against Kakashi’s crotch with his thighs.  “What’s with that look, Hatake?  Always thought you wanted to tickle his tonsils; was I wrong?”

“Not at the expense of strangling him!”

“You’re getting’ off on this, aren’t you Hatake? Your mirror image chokin’ you … your boy chokin’ on your cock. Well, can’t have you enjoying yourself too much, can I?” He stepped back for a moment, pulling Yamato by the hair as he went.  “Quit your splutterin’ boy.  You’ll survive.  On your feet. Release his arms and legs, but cuff his wrists.  I don’t want him tryna weave signs.”

Yamato wiped his mouth along his forearm as he glared at Hound.  He had barely a second to blink before the lashes of the quirt bit into of his back.  “Get up and do what I said damn it!”

“Now isn’t the time to be stubborn Tenzou,” his captain yelled.

Slowly he rose, the fetters and manacles sinking back into the closet door as lightweight cuffs formed around Kakashi’s wrists.

 “Now then … have seat Yamato, over there,” he said, pointing to the chair.  “I’m gonna tell you a little story while you blister his ass.”

Yamato caught his breath looking between them - Kakashi, his arms hovering over his cock, still slick with saliva; Hound, his fingers inches above the kunai holster, prepared to strike at a moment’s notice.

“Sir, I don’t feel right about any of this--”

“What? I thought you lived to please your captain?”

“I do, but this is beyond the pale.” Another stolen glance at Kakashi, that crooked smile darting across his lips, that gleam of desire in his eye and once more he turned to face Hound. “I can’t bring myself to hurt him more than I already have.”

“Tenzou … it’s okay.  Haven't exactly been forthright, you need to see--”

“We’re all gonna see it,” Hound snapped, “the wretched part of you behind the facade--”

“I don't need you to broadcast my--”

“Quite right, Hatake.  Once he realizes what a big pussy you are on his own, I’m sure he’ll make the right choice.  Well?  What are you waitin’ for boy?”

The cool wood chilled his body as he took his seat; his nerves - rattled as Kakashi walked toward him, draping his body across his bare thighs.

Meanwhile, Hound reached inside the armoire, retrieving a medium sized box and placing it in the center of Kakashi’s back.  “Go on, open it,” he said. “Yet another secret he was keeping from you.”

Nervous fingers undo the small gold colored latch.  Inside, nestled in blue silk lay a partially full vial of oil, a tan colored, round-ended cone and a coil of beads of various sizes.

“He told you he always asked after your progress and well-being ... that much was true. But after those ‘fact-finding missions, he’d lie there in his big empty bed with the contents of that box as his company keepers while he thought of you.”

Yamato dared run his hand over the quivering flesh of Kakashi’s bottom, feeling his captain’s cock grind into his thigh.  “Is this true … senpai?”

“Yeah,” came the meek response as he raised his hips. “Wanted to tell you in my own way--”

“So,” he leaned over to whisper, “you were a slave to the demands of your body, just like I was, senpai.”

“Yet another sickening commonality between senpai and kohai,” sighed Hound. “Think I’m gonna puke.  Yamato, that big thing there is a butt plug, I take it you have some idea where it's supposed to go?”

“You want me to--”

“Ram it up his ass!”

“Okay, that’s it ya crazy bastard!  I’m not gonna--”

The noise of the katana as it flew from its scabbard registered a second after the cool steel was at his throat.  “The next words outta your mouth might be your last,” he hissed. “I’d think carefully if I were you.”

“Goddamn it Tenzou!  “Don’t be stupid!”

Gingerly he felt around in the box, as he locked eyes with Hound. The pressure of the katana eased a bit as he drizzled a line of the viscous fluid into his palm.  When Hound stepped back, he gripped the vial between his fingers, sliding and rolling the plug through the oil.  Though the blade silently returned to its place, Hound kept his grip on the hilt, an unspoken threat should he be hesitant about the task assigned.  

“Don’t fret about prepping him overmuch, boy ... Kakashi likes it rough.”

Carefully replacing the vial, Yamato cupped a greasy hand about the box lest it fall. The soft moans and sinuous movements of his captain’s hips as the plug breached him, the warm wet spot growing larger against the inside of his thigh as he gently pressed the plug inside and his own bodily response to this sight, made it difficult to concentrate on the threat standing twelve inches from him.

 “Now, back to my story,” Hound said as if the last few minutes never happened. “You ever wonder where that box of implements and the practice of adding new toys to it came from?”

“No … sir.”

“It was a gift from his former master.  A busty, bossy little woman … hell of a swordsman; she swung a mean razor strop and paddle too, didn’t she Hatake?”

Kakashi growled.

“I don’t understand the connection, Hound … who was this woman?”   _Please … please tell me he’s not talking about Lady Tsunade._

“Was?  She is ... Noguchi Katsumi, the old lady at the bathhouse; she was jounin back in the day, quite deadly.”

“I thought she looked familiar. The years haven’t exactly been kind to …  wait a minute ... Kakashi made me train under her too.”

“Course he did.  She was the best.  And she just so happened to be the only surviving member of Hatake Sakumo’s original squad. She was pregnant when he disgraced him on that last mission.  Yeah, old Katsumi had quite the itch for Sakumo-san--”

“That isn’t any of my business--”

“Don't rush me boy, spilling secrets takes time.   A few months after the old man offed himself, Katsumi came looking for his stuck up little brat.  Wanted to do her part …make sure the father’s legacy wouldn’t be forgotten or some such shit.” He reached up, untying his mask, letting it hang from a clip on his pouch.  “With the permission of the Hokage, she privately trained your captain in the art of kenjutsu; that was his father’s specialty. Taught him to channel his lightning nature through the metal of his sword for a quicker kill.  But your weak-willed captain never could never bring himself to use it effectively. I found the technique suited me.  Surely you’ve seen me use it now and again?”

As Hound spoke, Yamato ran his hands over the smooth, cool skin of Kakashi’s rump. _Now I understand,_ he thought.   

“At first, Kakashi wanted nothing to do with all that sentimental bullshit … you know, the stories she’d tell of their glory days, what an honorable man Sakumo was and all that hoo-hah.  Back then, he didn’t wanna hear it … tried to run away from all memories of his father and Katsumi too, every chance he got.  She always caught up with him and dragged his scrawny ass back to the woodshed.”   Stepping between Kakashi’s wide spread legs, Hound leaned over, his gloved fingers grabbing hold the end of the butt plug and pulling it out slightly. “Every time he rebelled,” he said, ramming the plug deeper inside, “every time he talked shit about his father, she’d set his ass ablaze with that old wooden paddle, a switch or a razor strop.” 

Yamato kept hold of the box as his captain writhed and moaned whenever Hound withdrew the butt plug and rammed it deeper inside him.

“Every few months as the training got harder, she’d hafta add a new implement to her arsenal. That’s cause he'd mastered that shit eatin’ grin, like he wasn’t fazed by her efforts to discipline him.  By the time he finally got his act together, she gave him that box as a reminder to honor his father and what he stood for … or else. If only she knew what became of it,” he laughed.  “The other implements in the armoire, he gathered on his own over time or they were gifts from former lovers.  You’d be surprised how many women and men wanted him to tie ‘em down and leave ‘em bruised.  I remember this one broad …liked being tied up and fucked in the ass ... ah, she was my kinda woman.”

“That’s enough, Hound,” he grunted as the plug slammed inside him.

“Right …  let’s move on,” he said, snatching up the box and walking toward the rumpled bed.

“Why are you telling me all this, Hound-san?  Is it supposed to make me think less of Kakashi? Am I to despise him, belittle him for surviving such treatment the only way he knew how?”

“Wake up  dumbass!  He made you divulge shameful things from your past; if you ever wish to have equal footing with a man who thinks himself above you, sometimes you hafta play dirty.  ‘Sides, it’s been a long time since anybody whopped his ass, Yamato,” he said taking a seat at the edge of the mattress.  “Give him what he deserves.”

 “I'm telling you again, sir, this doesn’t feel right--”

“Tenzou," his captain groaned, “it’s okay.”

Another glance at Hound as he raised his arm to strike. His breaths quicken as he watches the impression of his hand spread across the surface of Kakashi’s left buttock; a blotch of pink on an alabaster canvas.  The sharp inhalations from his captain as he laid down a matching print on the other cheek emboldened him - but Hound caught him short.

Catching the heavy object as it rocketed toward his chest, he heard the other man say, “I told you he likes it rough, didn’t I?  Use this.”

The hairbrush, its weight familiar in his hand; his forearm fell naturally, draping itself across the small of his captain’s back. “Kakashi ... I don’t understand why you’re letting us do this to--”

“I’m as stubborn as you are, Tenzou” he said over his shoulder. “Willing to do whatever it takes to prove I’m serious about--”   

“Enough with the chatter,” Hound interrupted.  “We’ll let the truth come out in its own way - through pain.”

“Tenzou, I can take it, go on."

With the sharp snap of his wrist and the moans of pleasured pain coming from his captain, soon, the achromatic canvas becomes a muted red. _“What are you doing? We shouldn’t be enjoying this,”_ the logical portion of his brain screamed.

“Quick question,” Hound said, “you spent how many years thinking yourself unattractive?”

“I … don’t understand the question,” he huffed.

 “Yeah, you do.  Thought you’d always hafta to pay civilian whores to spend time with ya and fuck your brains out; resigned yourself to being alone because no one wanted you, sexually or otherwise…”

The brush held in mid swing as he looked to Hound.  “How did you … who told you about that?”

“Nobody had to tell me nothin’ … I know how you think.  And judging from your expression, I bet Hatake hasn’t fessed up about his role in that negative mindset of yours either, did he?”

“What is there for him to confess?”

“Ah, I get to tell you the truth about that too, huh?”  He crossed his legs and leaned back.  “Let’s see … it was the day after his ‘retirement’ from ANBU; made me deliver a message to your teammates and those who might become your teammates.  Made me threaten to kill up any and everybody who made a move on you.  I have a reputation, you know and let me tell ya, they were scared shitless.  He made me do all that just because he wanted that sweet little ass of yours for himself.”

“Goddammit Hound!  If you’re gonna tell the story, then tell it right!  Tenzou, sex with you wasn’t my only goal.  I was tryin’ to protect you from--”

“Here we go again.  Who you shittin’ Hatake?  Me or him?”

“It that true, senpai? You’re the reason why people shied away me?"

 “Think of all the money you wasted Yamato ... all the lonely nights, wallowing in self-doubt, hating yourself because of him--”

“Kakashi, tell me he’s lying --”

“I’d brook no competition for you, Tenzou … that’s the truth; but I didn't just want sex--”

“The time is now, boy...  sublimate the rage and bitterness that’s been eatin’ at you for years … do it!”

The hairbrush fell time and again, the fury he didn’t realize was still there, fueling each swat.

“That’s right, make him pay Yamato!”

 “The fuck, Kakashi,” he panted as the brush rested against a reddening buttock, “why did you do that to me?”

 “Didn’t realize … how far reaching the consequences… needed you to … need me.”

Hound cheered, “Fooled you didn’t he, Hatake?  You had no idea he was saving yourself for you all along.”

“I didn’t know that until last night, Tenzou. I’m sorry.”

A tear streaked down his cheek as the hairbrush trembled in his hand. “You idiot!” He smoothed his hand over the tiny circles of crimson.  “You could’ve just talked to me.”

 “Stop!” Hound yelled as he jumped up from the bed. “This aint over yet!  Yamato, can you convert that chair into a low table?”

“What?  The chair … a table?  I think so, sir. Why?”

“Let him go …

I’ve got a better idea.”

 Notes:

Indolent: having or showing a disposition to avoid exertion; slothful.

Marmoreal: of, relating to, or resembling marble.

Effrontery: shameless or impudent boldness; barefaced audacity.

Goad: a stick with a pointed or electrically charged end, used to drive cattle; anything that pricks or wounds like such a stick.

Brook: suffer, tolerate.

Sublimate: diverting the expression of an instinctual impulse or desire from its unacceptable form to one considered more socially or culturally acceptable; diverting the energy of a sexual or other biological impulse from its immediate goal to one of a more aesthetic nature or use.


	27. Once More with Feeling

 The two fingered tawse lay across Hound’s palm as Yamato raised his eyes to the man standing near the foot of the bed. Helping Kakashi stand, the hairbrush was tossed bristle side up on the dresser.  A backward step, a twist at the waist and the seat of punishment now stands before him.  As the man in ANBU black studies him, Yamato takes another moment, settling his chakra; this time around, his fingers fly through the signs.  The old wooden chair crackles and twists, slowly transforming into a four-legged, table which stood level with his mid-thigh.

Lightly gripping the handle of the tawse, Hound walked toward them, an arrogant smirk on his lips. “Atta way, boy,” he said as if Yamato were nothing more than a performing monkey.  Suddenly, he kicked the table into place against the closet door.  “Guess you oughta get rid of the briers now,” he sighed. “Be hell to pay if he pokes out an eye.”

“Hound ... what are you doing?”

"Is your memory that bad, Hatake?  Pity … I have fond memories of the last time you--"

"Took punishing myself to a new level?"

Hound threw his head back and laughed.  "That's an interesting way to look at it."

“What’s he talkin’ about?" Yamato whispered.

“Me and Tenzou … we’re good now--”

“Yeah? Aww ... I'm sorry to hear that … cause I’m not good yet.  Now, assume the position, _Captain._ Forearms and palms, flat against the surface … legs spread.  Yamato … secure those cuffs to the table top.”

“I’ll get you for this,” Kakashi growled as he crosses in front of his kohai.

“But, senpai--”

“That _threat_ was directed to me boy.  And if I weren’t such a heartless bastard, I’d be terrified. Now move Hatake!”

Watching his captain shuffle into place, a proud and angry man, one made vulnerable by Hound’s words, had his blood boiling. The play of muscle as he bent down, the smooth flesh of his buttocks, crimson in places where the brush fell harder and the sinewy backs of his thighs, ivory still, left him trembling with want.  He scarcely noticed when Hound stepped behind him.

With the cold steel of the breastplate against his back, the elbow length glove warm against his arm, he closes his eyes as Hound’s hot breath rushes over his ear.

 “We’re gonna have to move to his left side,” he said pressing the rolled leather handle into his hand.  A firm arm wrapped around his hips, “You’ll need lots of room to swing.” He pushed him forward, guiding his movements until they stood directly behind Kakashi.  “First, we gotta get that thing outta our way.”  Immediately, Hound went to his captain’s side, roughly maneuvering the butt plug until the dark tan end was flush against his entrance.  “Much better.” He reached down, slapping the inside of Kakashi’s thighs, forcing them further apart. “Oi, numbnuts … close your mouth and bind his ankles to the table legs!”

“Don’t make me do this, Hound--”

"Feel the breeze from your lips flappin' ...sounds like you're saying 'no,' but your body can't support that lie.  Look at ya, could bust a cinder block in half with your dick.  You wanna see him squirm as much as I do."

Yamato covered his ears as he yelled, “No ... I don’t!”

In an instant, the quirt in his other hand sliced through the thick air, striking at the low hanging sac between Kakashi’s legs; once … twice … three times, the lashes manducate into his flesh.

He couldn’t _‘unhear’_ his captain’s groans; couldn’t _‘unsee’_ him wilting under Hound’s onslaught.

“I'm gonna make a sadist outta you yet boy,” Hound laughed as another vicious set of strikes buckled Kakashi’s knees.

Slowly, his hands fell from his ears.  "I'm not you," he hissed.  "Never be like you!"  He was breathing like he'd run a marathon when he pointed his finger in Hound's direction saying, "Used to idolize you.  Used to believe you knew me better than I knew myself.  What bullshit!  You’re no better than a bully ... a pitiful excuse for a man--” 

A flash of white exploded behind his eyes, when Hound’s fist collided with the bridge of his nose. The ceiling swam in and out of focus above him after his back slammed against the floor.

Hound stood over him, the handles of the quirt and tawse clutched in one hand.

“Both of you disgust me,” he spat.  "You …  too stupid to take advantage of an opportunity for control over your own life and Hatake … too full of himself to ask for what he needs. I came here to teach you a lesson, boy … came to make you see your place--”

“Well you’ve made that abundantly clear,” he said wiping the blood from his nostrils.

“I don’t think I did,” he said as the sole of his boot hovered over Yamato’s erection. “See, you gotta knock Hatake off that pedestal in your mind, once and for all.” The flat of his boot lightly rested against Yamato’s stout cock. “Stop being his doormat.”

“If that’s what I choose to be … what the hell is it to you?”

“Always were stupidly fearless when it came to your captain,” he said, grinding the ball of his foot into the hardened flesh beneath it. “Hear this and get it through your thick skull.  While you’re certainly inferior to me, boy, you’re as much Hatake’s equal as any other jounin in this village, understood?  This is one time and place where you hafta take delivery of the power offered you. Now, unless you wanna join him at that table,” he leaned down, his free hand inches from Yamato’s face, “on your feet boy.  Bind his ankles to the table like I told you.”

As the pressure on his cock eased, Yamato reluctantly grabbed at the extended gloved hand. And once he could stand on his own, long thin tendrils wrapped around his captain’s ankles.

Leading him to Kakashi’s left side, Hound resumed his position at his back.  “Listen up, use your index finger to guide the tawse when you swing … like this.”

Yamato switched off his thoughts as Hound grabbed his arm and drew it back.

 “Not that I care whether the tails wrap around the outside of his thigh, try and aim for the fleshy part of his ass.”

The heavy thud of first contact, the shudder of his captain's body as it absorbed the bite if the tawse and the sensation of Hound’s hard cock nestled between his bottom cheeks, sent a wave of pleasure through his body.

Thick stripes of red, one upon another, transform the ruddy flesh into a swollen heart shape.

When he heard Hound’s footsteps retreat, he paid it no mind, as each gasp of pain from Kakashi’s lips, quickened his cock.

And as he swung his arm back for one last strike, Hound restrained him.  “Let’s switch things up a bit.” Ripping the tawse from his grasp, he smiled and said, “Before we get started, release his wrists and ankles.  Should probably lower this table too, that way he ends up laying across its surface with his hands flat on the floor. Here,” chucking a pillow at him, “might need this too."

Still entranced by the sight before him, Yamato barely noticed when Hound dragged the table to the center of the room. After freeing Kakashi, Yamato moved robotically, fluffing the pillow before his captain's body sunk into its softness ... _making it comfortable for senpai,_ he thought.  

“Can’t have you grinding your hips into the pillow and pleasuring yourself," he heard Hound say when he made Kakashi lift his hips to position his cock.  “If you catch his dick with the edge of the paddle, all the better … he’ll howl for sure.”

Apparently, everything met with Hound’s approval on that final walk around inspection, for he soon took up his place at Yamato’s back.

“You’re gonna use this,” he told him when he pressed the handle of the paddle in his hand.  “You won't need to work as hard.  Twelve swats oughta do it … one strike for every year he played you for a chump,” Hound said. 

The long thin paddle was heavier than it looked.

Sorrowfully he walked to where Kakashi lay.   He spent a moment, running his hand over the welted flesh, wishing to soothe away the pain inflicted; an unspoken request for forgiveness with his fingertips, a kiss and a lick down his length, for what he was about to do.   Sweat trickled down his chest, his cock, painfully full, he squared his shoulders and stepped back.

With each strike, his captain's cheeks flattened and rebounded; each time, a long thin patch of white was quickly followed by a deepening red.

_Now I understand why Kakashi had to jerk off after my punishment sessions._

Swat number twelve landed with a satisfying smack and he found himself looking for excuses to serve up more.

_Damn! Maybe I am a sadist._

“Now what, sir?”

“Well ... what are you waiting for?  He's stretched and ready... you gonna keep standing there lookin’ stupid?  Oh, that ... silly me,” Hound said with a sly grin.  Callously removing the butt plug, he tossed it over his shoulder and onto the bed with a hearty laugh.   “Geez, do I have to do everything?” He slid up behind Yamato again, the notes of juniper berries and sandalwood drifting upward as oil pools in the bowl of his gloved hand.  “Want me to fuck him for you too, boy?”

“Umm … I … no sir.”

Stunned, he watched as Hound around the table until he stood near Kakashi’s head. “I want you to look me in the eye while you fuck him,” he said straddling his captain’s neck. Pushing down the top of his pants and stroking at his cock, he barked, “Don’t keep me waiting, boy!”

With a slight bend of the knees, Yamato sucked in a breath when the flared head of cock breached his captain’s body.

The sensation of intense heat radiating from his captain's reddened and tender backside, the tightness encompassing his shaft and Hound’s ragged breaths as he pleasured himself, all combined threatened to render Yamato consciousness.

“Now, grab his hips and sink deep inside,” instructed Hound.  “So hot and tight around your dick, isn’t he?”

“Oh god … yes--”

“Harder now … let him feel your balls slapping against his.  Listen to him … moaning and whimpering … beggin’ for more. Yes … fuck that ass, boy … deep and hard. Teach him that you own him!”

Unsure what came over him, Yamato leaned down, briefly taking Hound’s cock in his mouth.

“Back off!” Grabbing a hank of his hair, he pulled Yamato away, “You’re still too gentle with him!   Here … let me show you how it’s done.”

In the blink of an eye, Hound is behind him again, bending him forward; without warning are his butt cheeks spread as Hound pushes his way inside.  Those claws, dig into his hips as Hound rams past the ring of muscle that could no longer hold him back.

“Like this,” he breathed against his back.  “Shove that fat cock up his ass … deep, angry strokes … where the head of your cock almost slips out and then, BAM! You’re back inside again.  Don’t give him a moment to catch his breath!”

With every stroke, his cock grows harder; with every thrust from Hound, he slams into Kakashi.

 Back and forth, he echoes Hound’s movements until Hound and his captain are panting between grunts.

“No … no … gonna cum!” he shouts.

When Kakashi sagged beneath him, banging his fists into the floor, Yamato reached down, unsnapping the cock ring that he might bring his captain off by hand. Desperately fumbling with the snaps, he hears it fall to the ground.

It was too late for him; with a yell, Yamato blows his load.  

Hound is still moving inside him, hard and fast; the jangle of steel, deafening in his ears as the katana rattles in its scabbard.

 At last, the man behind him stills, the breastplate come to rest in the middle of his back.

“Mission accomplished … you did well, puppy,” he whispered.

 

Note:

Manducate: (archaic) "to chew."


	28. How You Like Me Now?

Alternate Title: Who Gonna Check Me Boo?

 

  _Dark into light_

_Night into day._

_What I am not, is he,_

_What I cannot, that does he._

_Protector, tormentor …_

_Plague, curse … a fallen angel in disguise,_

_I the wick, he the flame._

_I the blood, the body, he the animating spirit._

_Passion, desire, taboo._

_He the fount, the source, creator of the path …_

_mine only to follow through._

-Hatake Kakashi

 

His voice, weak at first, was scarcely heard over their ragged breathing.  “All these years … all the bullshit I’ve taken off you.” Slowly raising his chest, his voice was harsher now, “Everything you put me through tonight … and for what … this?  Is that all you got?”  He threw his head back, suddenly catching the man behind him unaware, forcing him a step or two backward.  “Get the fuck away from me!”

Dazed, Hound could do nothing but watch as Yamato kicked the table out of the way, scooped up Kakashi and pushed him face first into the armoire.  Grabbing him by the shoulder, Yamato spun him around.  “For everything I did to you tonight … I’m sorry.  And before you say it, yes… I did enjoy the last part.”  With an incline of his head toward Hound who now stood to his right he added, “Because of his orders and some of my own desires … I hurt you senpai and I--”

“Left me with a case of the blue balls is what you did.” Kakashi looked deeply into those sad brown eyes smiling as he said, “Guess that means you’re still hurting me.  No way I can accept an apology until you uh, rectify the situation.”  

 _Too intent on my own fulfillment … thought I finished him off._ Immediately, he made to kneel,

but Kakashi would not have it so.

Threading his fingers through damp brown hair, he grabbed a handful and pulled his kohai up to eye level, ordering him to, “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

At the click of Hound’s boots, Kakashi looked over Yamato’s shoulder giving the other man a wink when he moved into position behind them.

“Now, see what you can do about elongating and widening that table.”

With one arm thrown around his captain’s neck, the other flung out in the direction of the table, Yamato ignored Hound’s aggressive appropinquity, closing his eyes as Kakashi tightened the grip about his waist.  He paid no mind to the groaning of the wood as it was manipulated into a form previously unintended, nor did he regard the clumsy jostling about while his captain seated himself at the edge of the table.  He bit off a laugh as his knees smacked down with a loud bang on the tabletop when Kakashi abruptly rolled backwards.   The nails digging into his hips as his captain guides them into position, a mere trifle, heightening the anticipation of pleasure which would surely follow.

Still slick with Hound’s cum, the crown of Kakashi’s cock easily slips inside.  “Wish I could take things nice and easy Tenzou,” he softly murmurs, “I’m far beyond that now.”

From the corner of his eye he sees Hound; a splotch of red in the middle of his forehead, his cock in one hand, the handle of the holstered katana gripped in the other.

 “Quit bumping your gums, Kakashi.

Prove to me once and for all that the

original is better than the copy.”

The scabbard rattled once again and Hound growled.

“Then you’ll forgive me, Tenzou for what I’m about to do.”

Before his brain can process another thought, Kakashi spears into him; the pain … the other side of exquisite. 

In that moment,

he becomes a wild man bent on lubricity;

his nails claw at Kakashi’s arms,

his groans faltering in his throat as his eyes cross in pleasure.

And in that moment, he drops his guard,

long enough for Hound to walk behind him

and plunge the sharpened tips of his gloves into the flesh of his right shoulder.

“Feel obligated to show you why this _copy_ always exceeds the original,” he breathed against his ear.

Without another word, he’s pushed forward, his hips raised to allow the fat head of Hound’s oiled up cock to press its way inside.  He’s keening like a broken drill as they push and pull inside him, their cocks taking turns sliding up and down, inside and out. Stuffed, blissed out, he makes to leap away, to escape this narrow pit of carnality, the pleasure too much to take at once;

they will not have it so.

 The nails dragging across his buttocks pull him down, spreading him further than he believed possible, the claws piercing the skin of his shoulders keeping him in place.  He ceases movement, he can no longer fight, he willingly cedes, his nails sinking into the skin of his captain’s chest with every stroke as they move like pistons inside him and Yamato finds

he’d have it none other way.

 His capitulation spurs both original and copy into punishing syncopation. With every downward stroke, Kakashi manages to tighten the fingers wrapped around his juddering cock and Hound’s arm wraps around throat every time he plows into him.  A veil of white descends before his eyes, he's inching toward the brink; a moment of clarity, just enough to look down on the face of his captain.   His brow was furrowed in concentration, thin dark pink lips tightly pressed together, both of his eyes open … the Sharingan recording everything.

Seconds … minutes … hours, they pass in a blur, he could not tell, did not wish to know; original and copy explode inside him and Yamato wilts, his essence painting Kakashi’s abdomen, chest and three quarters of his chin.  Above and below come satisfied grunts followed by muffled chuckles.

 _You two are gonna be the death of me_ , he thought before he collapsed.

 

**TMTC     TMTC     TMTC     TMTC**

 The mask of ANBU’s Hound rests face up on the kitchen table; beside it, a steaming mug of black tea. “Why so glum, Hatake.  You a sore loser or just plain sore?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"Yeah" he said with scrunched up nose, "kinda, sorta already did that. What’s your problem, I delivered what was promised, didn’t I?”

Kakashi slammed down his mug with a snarl, “Your promises always have strings attached.”

“Such an ungrateful little prick Hatake.  Have I taught you no manners at all?”

“You taught me to be careful what I wish for Hound.  Now pay me what you owe me and get packing.”

Hound leaned back in his seat, one arm resting against the chair’s back. “Been a long time since anyone mounted you like a bitch in heat. Interesting to watch.  ‘Tenzou the meek’ has turned into ‘Yamato the beast.’  Wish you could’ve seen the expression on his face when he sunk deep inside you; it was priceless.” 

“What do hell do you want from me this time?”

“A concession speech would be nice.  No?  An agreement then,” he laughed. “Here’s the deal, I keep all the memories of last night in exchange for the store of chakra I hold.”

“Not like you’re doing me any favors, Hound, you hafta surrender the chakra at some point--”

“Well if you’re gonna be technical about it.  I already own his mind which gives me the upper hand.”

“And I'm left with?”

“His body of course.  You saw with your own eyes, the degree of obedience he’s willing to give, you heard with your own ears, every secret he’s kept hidden and you’ve experienced in your flesh the depths of his allegiance to you alone.  What more do you need?”

“Why do you always try to make a gift outta something that’s rightfully mine?”

  “Probably because you're so full of yourself Hatake. You know … I like this tea, fetch me another cup, would you?”

“Not your servant.  Get it yourself, asshole.”

“Such a terrible host,” he said scooting away from the table. “I showed you a side of your kohai you never would have known without me, presented you another avenue of refuge and gave you a place to empty yourself of troublesome emotions.  After all I’ve done ... you oughta be waiting on me hand and foot.”

“You’re the bane of my existence Hound, not a guest.”

“I am your benefactor, Hatake … one who still holds many of your secrets. Speaking of which,” he said searching through the cupboards,” where’d you hide the tea?”

“Garbage can … we finished it an hour ago,” Kakashi sighed. “And you were supposed to have been long gone by now.”     

 “I would’ve been if you weren’t so bullheaded.” The pilot of the stove’s burner rapidly clicked in the quiet kitchen as he set the kettle to boil.   “What am I saying?  At our core, we’re nothing but closed off, emotionally stunted, sex fiends; never did learn how to value people until they were gone from our life.   Now we find ourselves in life’s ultimate mindfuck, having been presented with someone who worships us, a man who would do anything to prove himself to us and a man as freaky as we are.”

Scratching at the stubble on his chin, Kakashi said nothing when his alter ego pried the empty mug from his other hand.

“If I hafta swallow down these bargain basement tree leaves they call tea,” said Hound as he walked back to the stove, “so do you.”  Two mugs clutched against his breastplate and the sugar bowl in hand, he asked, "That Gai character.  Wasn’t he always your ‘go to’ friend without benefits?”

“I feel a point coming on,” Kakashi said as he took the mug and lifted it to his lips.

“I’m sure he’d let you tap that fat ass if you asked.  Is that the sort arrangement we want for the rest our lives?”

Kakashi almost choked on his mouthful of tea. “Gai isn’t my type,” he spluttered.

 “Yeah? If he walked in here right now, dropped to his knees, wrapped his lips around your cock and spread his legs, you’d take it from him like a starvin’ dog at a buffet--”

“First, let’s hope times never become that desperate--”

“I'd fuck him."

Kakashi shuddered so hard his mug rattled against the table. "And you call me a dog, Hound?  Hardly need a lecture from you about life choices.”

 “You made me what I am to protect yourself,” he said measuring out a spoonful of sugar. “I know you, Hatake, you’re at that point in life where you need something more than a convenient piece of ass.”  Finally taking his seat, he added, “With Yamato, you can catch hold of that elusive mental stability, which in turn would keep me securely bound.”

“Should have known this conversation would eventually turn to bondage,” laughed Kakashi.  “Why the sudden interest in my mental health? It’s because of you, I’m a psychotic bastard.”

   “Yamato put up with your crazy ass for years, why, I’ll never know; he’s the one that needs his head examined.  Yet, the boundaries of his pleasure and yours are new and … infinite.   He’ll come to crave that which only you can provide--”  

“What’s the catch?”

“None.  From this point onward, every memory you make with him, I’ll allow you to keep.  But know this Hatake … every time you lie with him, his thoughts will only be of me and how I fucked his mind and his body.”

“I could live with that.  And Tenzou … he’s left with nothing?”

“On the contrary, he gets the best of both worlds.  A stronger bond of friendship with you, a deeper intimacy than he’s ever known with anyone; surely you understand how much that means to him.” He raised the steaming mug to his nose as if it were the finest cognac.  "We can give him a place and someone to whom he belongs-- an avenue to release his frustrations with someone he trusts implicitly.”

“Starting to sound like my therapist; definitely time for you to go.”

“Yes … another errand for my master; how I loathe you Hatake.  See, I’m the one who is left with nothing,

 unless of course you agree to

one, final request.”

 

Notes:

Lubricity: lewdness.

Appropinquity: nearness.


	29. That's It ... That's All?

 

Moments of nothingness,

his body jerking in response to the sound of faraway screeching

as memories tumble from allotted places,

turning cartwheels over the void between slumber’s terminus and the inauguration of wakefulness. 

Down and down, recollections fall,

lighter than feathers, heavy as sledgehammers, busting up the logjam of communiques from every part of his body as they descend.  As he straddles the threshold of consciousness, in that split second of time before the central switchboard of his brain is overwhelmed by a flood of messages, Yamato thinks:

_That’s it ... that’s all,_

_I gotta quit drinking._

Just one lucid thought commences the evaluation of his piss poor physical condition. First off, there was a brick of sandpaper in his mouth, swelling against the backs of hairy teeth.  Next, the realization that razor wire was ripping into the flesh of his lower extremities.  Lastly came the sensation of a scalding pain which had taken up residence inside his torso. 

_Great … I've got heartburn._

_Don’t remember eating spicy food or any food for that matter._

Those intermittent gusts of warm, stinky air blowing across his face, offered not a whit of comfort either, instead they provoked another alarming sensation – nausea.  To momentarily escape the stench of skunk spray and rancid lard, he turned his head slightly, burrowing his nose into the prickly support under his cheek.

 _Now I know I’m dreaming; this thing_ _smells of Kakashi._

 _Alright, settle down … think it through.   The heat in my chest? Must be late in the day … probably the afternoon sun coming through the curtains which explains the sticky sweatiness.  And those high-pitched screams?  I got nothing for that one.  Now to the weird odors, must be trash pickup day … yeah, that’s it._ The effort to roll onto his back left him winded. _Gettin’ old …_ _last mission wore me out; oughta be fine if I just lie here a few minutes more._

 “Look, he’s coming around,” whispered a gruff voice to his right. “Go get the boss.”

 “Don’t be stupid,” said another, “he’s still out of it I tell ya.”

“Boss’ll be pissed if we bring him another false report,” cautioned a third voice.

The owner of the first voice was now standing in the center of his chest; it's four sets of claws piercing through skin, sinking into muscle as a cold, wet probe tickled at the curve of his jaw. 

“Nope,” it declared, “it’s the real deal this time.  He’s tryna gather chakra … I’ll handle this part.  Now go get the boss like I told ya!”

The sounds of soft clicking and loud cursing floated past Yamato’s ears as the others fled. 

_Sonofabitch … I’m a hostage?_

_Crap!  Whatever this thing is, it’s siphoning my chakra; hafta conserve strength … figure another way of escape._

Suddenly, the weight removed itself, dropping down to the floor.  And as his captor paced beneath him, Yamato smiled within himself.  _That’s wood…_ _know I_ _can use that to my advantage.  Can’t let on that I’m conscious … need to see where I’m being held before the others double back._ Sheer force of will made possible the lifting of his head; crusty eyelids opened a crack and instantly slammed shut when bright lights intruded.  _Looks like a bedroom… not mine, that's for damn sure._

Just then, another presence entered the space; it’s power thrumming through the floorboards, though it’s chakra signaled genial intent.  There came the sound of liquid sloshing about as this one approached.  _What the hell kind of creatures are they?_

The next thing Yamato knew, this 'presence' was settling itself beside him – it’s voice, warm and unmistakable.

“I think you’re right, he is coming around.”

_Senpai? If he brought me into his home, I must really be in bad shape._

_“Careful,”_ cautioned the little voice in his head _, “this could be a trick of the enemy.”_

Yamato finds himself without the strength to open his eyes again, yet he turns his head toward the sound of what he hopes is his captain’s voice; in exchange for the effort, cool fingers gently brush back the stray hairs from his forehead.

“Good job, Pakkun.”

 “Yeah, yeah … whatever…  can we go now?”

“What’s your hurry?  I was gonna sear some venison for you guys--”

“No thanks.  You’re off your nut, Kakashi.”

"As usual, you're partially correct  ... I did get off a nut--"

"Didn't need to know that ... nasty--"

"My sex life aside," he said, leaning down to wring water from the cloth, "I have  no idea what you’re talking about--”

“This foolishness right here …you playin’ nursemaid and cooking for us.  What’s your damage, man?  I mean, the old Kakashi would’ve dumped an injured teammate at the hospital and then went on about his business--”

“You’re confusing me with Hound. And did it ever occur to you that I might be happy for a change?”

“Happy ... crazy, all the same to me.  This sorta thing you're doing would be unnatural for the Kakashi I used to know.”

 "Then you oughta know Tenzou was never just a teammate to ‘the old Kakashi’ … he’s a trusted kohai.  Practically raised the tree man here from a little acorn I did.”

“Oh, for the love of … you’re losing it,” the little dog growled as he backed away from his summoner.  The other ninken peeked around the door frame, nodding their heads in agreement.

“All of you share his opinion?  I see … listen you ungrateful mutts,” he snapped while placing the cloth to Yamato’s brow. “After everything I had to do to him, Tsunade cleared him for release and I promised to look after him.  What’s so complicated or crazy about that?”

“Maybe you’re getting soft in your old age, Boss,” said one.

“Nah,” another answered, “he's scared cause he broke the kid's brain.”

“You’re both right,” said Pakkun, “after all these years, it finally dawned on him that kid’s too good for him.  That’s why he’s overcompensating.  Nothing personal, Kakashi, but we don’t wanna be here when you finally snap.”

“Fine … then get the hell out.”

Pakkun trotted over to his brethren, turning in the doorway to say, “Hope you know what you’re doing.  The kid’s alright in our book, but if you screw this up, I swear--”

“You know ... it’s a terrible idea to threaten a crazy person."  He turned to glare at his summons adding, "I may hafta sic Hound on ya.”

There were three angry pops of chakra as the ninken dispersed.

Yamato finally opened his eyes to see the concerned face of his captain, fresh out of the shower, droplets of water hanging on for dear life to his flattened hair.

 “If you need to puke, Tenzou … I’ve got garbage cans on either side of the bed.”

“No … ’m okay,” he moaned, “but can you make the room stop spinnin’?”

“I've got a crack team of engineers workin’ on it as we speak.”

“Don't make me laugh ... please.  Why’d you let me drink so much, senpai?”

“Probably because I forgot what a lightweight you were,” he said with a feeble chuckle.  “Geez, you had a cup and a half of sake at the bathhouse … two days ago.” 

“Not funny ... I got twenty men with picks and shovels tryna break free of my skull.”  He managed to return a faltering smile before bolting upright:

“Two days ago!”

 Warm hands held captive his shoulders and the mellow intonations beside his ear eased him back down.  “Relax … you have to rest--”

“I was supposed to report to Ibiki right after the mission … whenever the hell that was; he’s gonna kill me!”

“Already taken care of.  Now if you insist on sitting up, let me help,” he said, propping the pillows behind his kohai’s back.  “I need to step away for a minute, you gonna be alright by yourself?”

“Told ya I’m fine.  What the hell is going on Kakashi?  I feel so … so weird.”

Kakashi scooted over to the edge of the mattress.  “What say you rehydrate first?  I brought a glass, a pitcher of cold water and a carafe of hot water; they’re on the nightstand.  Didn’t know which one you might need.” As he stood he said, “I’ll explain everything, once I’m sure you’re alright.”

Gesturing for the glass, he watched Kakashi fill it halfway. And though he spilled more of it on himself and the sheets, he managed to get few tentative sips down.  Might have done a better job of it had he not been concentrating on his captain standing near the closet, watching him; a fluffy white towel around his hips and that silver eyebrow cocked at a quizzical angle.

“Had some really crazy dreams,” he said.  “In one of ‘em, I was strung up … little bells, tinkling ... weights attached to my um ... never mind.  Then in another dream, you got strung up; but Hound was there too, so it couldn’t possibly have been at the same time.  And then in another one, I … well, I did some things with … I mean to you, that I think I regret?  Weird,” he mumbled as he rolled over to set the glass on the nightstand.

“I wouldn’t call it weird, Tenzou.  Dreams sometimes stitch together pieces of reality.” With that, Kakashi turned to face the closet, letting his towel slide to the floor.

Yamato almost swallowed his tongue.

Red stripes from the tawse, patches of crimson from the hairbrush and a deeper maroon coloring from the paddle … they were all there, vividly displayed across Kakashi’s buttocks and the tops of his thighs.  The old wooden chair, which he’d turned table, no longer sat in the middle of the floor and Hound … was gone.

Seconds of nothingness,

memories crash back into their assigned places,

parts of his body jerk and twitch as his hands fly to hide a sudden erection.

 

_Oh my god …_

_it wasn’t a dream!_

 


End file.
